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jekde04 · 3 years

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One-shot for Gruvia Day/Greige Day/Gruvia Family Day 2021

Summary: Coming home from a mission is always better when there's someone waiting for you.

Word Count: 2,483 words

You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics.

Tag List: @shampooneko @fbflame94 @juviaafullbuster @unvalley @gruviaftw11 (Wanna be tagged, lemme know)

“Mommy, we’re back!”

Looking for her blue head of hair had become second nature to him, so he quickly spotted her among their friends as she stood up to gather the running Greige into her arms. He followed right after, though a lot calmer.

“I finished my mission with Daddy!” the four-year-old boy with dark blue hair exclaimed as he reached his mom, still a little breathless from running. “I made big blocks of ice for the party, and Daddy crushed them to make snow cones for everyone!”

Greige prattled on excitedly, demonstrating each point with his hands and arms and making Juvia smile. Arriving at her side, Gray put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and kissed her temple. She embraced him back, giving him a quick squeeze before letting go and turning back to their son.

Gray chuckled. It seemed like ages ago when Juvia would welcome him with a half-hug, half-tackle to the ground while shouting, “Gray-samaaaaa!” Now, all her attention was on their son.

“That’s great, darling,” Juvia told Greige as they all sat side by side, with both of her boys on either side of her. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Gray rolled his eyes. It was so like Juvia to get worried over a simple mission of making ice sculptures and snow cones for kids at a birthday party, even though she was the one to spot it on the job board.

At first, she got really excited as she saw it as an opportunity for family bonding. But with her six-month pregnant belly, Gray wouldn’t risk it even if it was just an easy and harmless mission.

It ended up being a father and son bonding with his little ice mage apprentice.

“Relax, Juvia. As if I would let something happen to our son,” Gray answered after taking a gulp of the ice-cold water waiting for him at the table. Mira passed by and set a hot bowl of udon in front of him, giving him a light pat on the back.

“Of course you won’t, Gray-sama,” his wife answered with a smile. “But Juvia will always worry for you two. It’s just the way it is.”

She turned to Greige and held his elbow to pull him closer but was surprised when he yelped in pain.

“Greige-kun? What’s the matter? Where does it hurt?” Juvia asked in a concerned voice, trying to look for any bruise or cut on his son’s well-covered body.

Gray also turned to look at him with worry. “Did you get injured, buddy?”

“N-nothing. I’m okay, Mom,” Greige answered, squirming from Juvia’s fussing and a bit embarrassed about his outburst.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, young man,” Juvia said in her stern mommy voice that meant business. She rarely used it to both Gray and Greige, so both of them knew better than to defy her in any way when she was in one of her moods.

And being pregnant, those mood swings escalated tenfold.

Greige let Juvia remove his outer coat, allowing her to quickly spot the source of the problem: a scratch on his elbow. It wasn’t that deep or big, but it definitely should be cleaned, or else it would get infected.

Suddenly, Juvia snapped her head towards her husband and glared at him with her fierce blue eyes.

“Gray-sama! You said you won’t let anything happen to our son!”

Gray gulped and scratched the back of his head. All they did was make snow cones, how the hell did Greige get that?!

“Juvia, I swear, I didn’t let him out of my sight! I don’t even know where he got that,” he answered as he moved to Greige’s other side, examining the wound. “Besides, it’s just a small scratch. It’s no big deal.”

He immediately regretted his words the moment they came out of his mouth. He felt goosebumps prickling his skin as Juvia’s glare intensified.

Really, this woman means the world to him, but she could be scarier than Erza sometimes.

But before he could appease his wife, Greige said in a small voice, “This was from yesterday.”

Juvia turned to their son. “Yesterday? What happened? And why didn’t you say anything about it?”

With his head bowed, Greige mumbled something he couldn’t hear. Gray was about to ask him to speak louder when he saw him chance a glance at the pink-haired girl just three tables away from them...

And blush.

Holy Mavis.

He knew that look. He used to steal glances at Juvia with that look.

But his son was just four years old!

“What did you say, Greige?” Juvia’s voice broke through his thoughts (and internal panic), and he tried his best to focus on his son’s answer instead of his pink cheeks.

“I-I... scraped my elbow while Nasha and I were trying to hide from Aunt Lucy,” Greige answered, and Gray swore his son’s cheeks flushed some more.

Okay, he and Greige need to have a long talk when they get home. He was just four, but who knows what ideas and thoughts were running through his head now? Better nip it in the bud while it was still early.

And maybe he would tell Juvia tonight, but he had to be really careful because it might trigger the waterworks. And God knew how extremely sensitive she was, especially now that she was pregnant. Just last week, they ran out of milk, and she bawled her eyes out over it.

“Next time, be more careful, darling,” Juvia said, seemingly oblivious to what just happened and already arms-deep into her first aid kit.

Juvia had always been like that whenever he returned from a mission. She would have a first aid kit by her side and a glass of cold water and a serving of whatever the meal of the day was already ordered for him. At home, there would always be a feast.

He had to thank her failproof Gray-sama radar for always getting the timing of his arrival right.

She started dabbing alcohol on Greige’s wound while blowing at the spot to ease the pain. Greige flinched a little, but he put on a brave face while his mom cleaned his wound, his eyes traveling now and then to the nearby table where his bubbly friend was busy playing with her mom’s keys, unaware of his stolen glances.

That talk was definitely happening the moment they get home.

“All done!” Juvia exclaimed, lightly patting the band-aid she placed over the abrasion. “Now, for the finishing touches.”

She puckered her lips and lowered it to Greige’s elbow to kiss the boo-boo away, as she always did whenever her son injured himself. But just when her lips were a mere inch away, Greige saw Nasha looking at him with her big brown eyes, causing him to push his mom’s lips away from him.

“Ahh, stop it, Mom! I’m a big boy now!” Greige blurted, crimson cheeks and all.

Lisanna, who was delivering some drinks to a nearby table, smiled widely and ruffled Greige’s hair. "Aww, you are so cute, Greige-kun!" This made the boy even redder.

Surprised, Juvia locked eyes with Gray, and he tilted his head towards the table where his rival’s family was staying. She saw Nasha looking at Greige, and she looked at her husband and raised one of her eyebrows.

“Okay, Mommy understands,” she told Greige as she smiled at him and smoothed the band-aid on his elbow. “But promise me one thing, darling.”

Greige looked up at her and waited.

“Promise me that even though you’re a young man now, you won’t give Mommy a grandchild yet, okay? Mommy’s too young for that.”

Greige just continued looking at her, brows furrowed in confusion. Gray, on the other hand, almost choked on his udon and shouted, “Juvia!” at his giggling wife.

“Really, I can give Mommy a grandchild? How?” their son asked, excitement twinkling in his eyes.

Gray took a gulp of cold water before turning to his son. “Alright, that’s enough. Greige, don’t listen to your mom. And Juvia, stop putting ideas into your son’s head!”

Juvia covered her mouth with her hands. “Juvia’s sorry, Gray-sama. Juvia just thinks it’s so cute that Greige-kun already has a --”

“Greige?”

A little girl’s voice interrupted them, and they all turned to look at Nasha, who had quietly made her way to their table. Gray stole a glance at his son and saw him giving the girl the tiniest of smiles.

Just like the smile he used to give Juvia when he was still fighting his growing feelings for her.

All of a sudden, the innocent-looking girl jumped on Greige and locked his head under her arm, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Aunt Juvia, Uncle Gray, can Greige and I get some ice cream?”

“Ow! Let go!” Greige exclaimed, suddenly finding himself in a headlock with a giggling Nasha. He escaped her grip and glared at her while his mom answered, “Of course, sweetie. Just don’t go far and don’t take too long.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Nasha excitedly answered, dragging a sulking Greige after her. “Come on, weirdo. Let’s get some ice cream!”

“But I just ate a snow cone!”

“Whatever, you’re coming with me!”

Gray followed the two kids with his eyes, watching them hold hands as they made their way to their Aunt Mirajane.

That was his son, alright. Before long, he would be all grown up and meeting Nashas from different worlds and seeing snow dolls of Nasha and having enemies conjure up fantasies of him and Nasha in a perfect, happy world and --

“Relax, Gray-sama,” he heard his wife say, bringing him back to Earthland. “It will be a long time before all your thoughts would come true.”

His wife’s Gray-sama radar probably got an upgrade as it apparently developed mindreading powers now. And since when did his mind start running off to fantasy world? After all these years, Juvia’s powerful imagination must have rubbed off on him somehow.

Gray stretched his sore muscles and popped the joints in his neck. “Don’t joke about grandkids again. It’s scary.” He placed his hand at his wife’s round belly. “‘Sides, we’re not yet done having kids.”

Juvia looked at him, the most beautiful smile gracing her face. “Juvia knows. Now, get naked.”

“N-now?” Gray stammered, surprised at his wife’s sudden request. Sure, he would love to try having more kids, but --

“-- so Juvia could examine you thoroughly for any wounds. And change your bandages,” she continued, eyes feigning innocence. But he could see a small smile tugging at her lips, satisfied with the little joke she pulled.

Gray rolled his eyes and took off his shirt. He let Juvia’s light fingers explore his body and carefully remove the old gauze wrapped around his broad chest. “It’s almost healed already,” he remarked.

Juvia just continued applying antiseptic on his injury, not looking up at Gray. His wound was by no means fresh, but it was a deep gash he got from one of his missions with Team Natsu. He threw himself in front of a kid to protect her from one of the bandits, which earned him a cut over his breastbone. Good thing Wendy was with them; it could have been fatal if she didn’t treat it right away.

“Still not totally healed. Gray-sama should keep the bandages clean to avoid infection.” She looked up at him and added, “And Gray-sama should be extra careful now that our family is growing.”

Despite her steady tone, he could see her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. He remembered the first time she saw his injury and how she tried to muffle her sobs so that Greige wouldn’t think something was wrong.

Gray wiped the tears that escaped her eyes and kissed her forehead tenderly. “I will. And no matter what, I will always come back home to you.”

Juvia nodded and gave him a small smile. She wrapped fresh bandages around his chest in silence.

“All done now, Gray-sama.” She patted her handiwork and started putting all the stuff back inside the first aid kit. When she was done, she stood up and was about to return the kit to Mira when Gray thought aloud, “How come she does it for Greige but not for me?”

Juvia turned to look at him. “Are you saying something, Gray-sama?”

Gray looked at her sheepishly while scratching his cheek. “Ah, nothing.”

“Juvia’s sure she heard something about doing it for Greige but not for you. What is it?”

Gray’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, it’s just that...” He puckered his lips towards her.

“Eh?” Juvia asked incredulously. “Juvia’s not sure she understands what Gray-sama’s talking about.”

Gray sighed and picked up his shirt. “Forget it. It’s silly.”

Juvia sat beside him again, thinking aloud to herself. “Hmm. What does Juvia do with Greige that she doesn’t do with Gray-sama?” After a few moments, her face lit up. “Aha! Does Gray-sama want Juvia to kiss his boo-boos too?”

Gray’s face flushed some more, but he couldn’t help the smirk from crawling on his face. “Well, you used to do it, right? I’m just curious how come you don’t do it anymore.”

It was now Juvia’s turn to blush. She put her hand over her mouth and said, “Is Juvia hearing this right? Gray-sama wants Juvia to kiss his body right in the middle of the guild?”

Realizing what she was saying, Gray suddenly burst out, “What? No! I was just asking!”

But it was too late. Juvia’s lips were already pressed onto a scar by his collarbone.

“Does this still hurt, Gray-sama?” She then moved lower to his chest where the bandage started, and kissed it softly. “How about here, hmm?”

Gray froze as Juvia’s lips traveled even lower, now kissing his hard abs covered by his bandages. He clenched his fist as he could feel something else hardening.

“Is Gray-sama feeling better now?” Juvia asked in a sultry voice, looking up at him with those beguiling eyes, a tiny smirk on her luscious lips as if challenging him.

Oh, she was definitely teasing him.

But why did she have to look this sexy?

Around them, he could hear some of their guildmates snickering and hollering.

“Get a room!”

“They’re being lovey-dovey again.”

“Give your wife what she wants, Gray!”

He was flustered alright, but he only knew of one way to turn the tables on his wife.

He grabbed her shoulders and straightened her so that they were at eye level with each other.

“You missed a spot right here,” he said, pointing to his lips. But before she could react, he angled his head and kissed her full on the mouth.

That will teach her, he thought.

Amid all the teasing, gagging noises, and catcalls, a little boy eating his ice cream a few tables away yelled, “Eww, Daddy and Mommy are being gross again!”

***

Happy Gruvia Family Day, loves! 😘

#gruvia #gruvia day 2021 #gruvia day #greige day #gruvia family day #gruvia fanfiction

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raewritesfiction · 3 years

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Needy [Henry Cavill]

Plot: there’s ZERO plot here. The plot has left the building.

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Female reader

Warnings: Smut. Lots of smut. use of honourifics and unsafe sex. light breeding kink. ALWAYS USE A CONDOM.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @ohh-la-la-leto @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @Amandalynngraves @trashybrooke @inlovewithhisblueeyes @sycochick @purplerain85 @zealoushound @summersong69

—-

It had been weeks since you had seen Henry and it was all you could do to keep your clothes on when he came home. But now you’d gotten the small talk out the way and he had showered to wash off his long flight back; you were straddling his thighs wearing nothing but a Superman emblem tee, panties and a skirt. Henry liked it when he could see your nipples through whatever you were wearing and he liked it even more when you were pressed against him and making out like you were teenagers.

Henry’s large hands gripped your ass and squeezed, spanking you occasionally as you rutted your hips against him, whining into his mouth with need. You had babbled about needing to feel him against you again; about missing his solid form crushing you when he was fucking you so good that your neighbour knew Henry’s name. He had smirked and pulled you down onto him, his tongue pushing past your lips to enter your mouth and duel with your own tongue.

“Is babygirl needy for me?” He smiles and speaks low, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yessss…” you hiss out your answer and nip his lip.

“Maybe you need to show me just how needy… how about you slip off those panties and ride my thigh like the good little slut you are?”

“Yes, Sir.” The words roll off your tongue as you nod enthusiastically. He didn’t like ‘daddy’ but you had learned quickly he liked ‘Sir’.

“Good girl…” he nips along your jaw and helps you stand.

“Would Sir like me to ride his thigh here or in the bedroom?” You slip your panties down your legs.

“I think it’s a nice evening and we should go out into the back garden. That bench is sturdy enough.” He winks and stands; his height and build makes you feel tiny in comparison.

“Y-yes, Sir.” You nod and bite your lip knowing full well that your neighbour could easily see into your garden if they decided to pop out for an evening drink.

Henry watches you walk outside and follows you, directing you to the garden bench in question and taking a slightly slouched seat on the wood and concrete furniture.

The sun was low in the sky casting a golden glow across your garden; the position Henry chose means he has a perfect view of you in the sunset.

“Climb on babygirl, I want to see just how needy you are.” He rubs his bare thigh and offers his other hand to help steady you. Once you were comfortably straddled, Henry wraps his arm around your lower back. “I wanna watch you let go…”

“Am I allowed to cum, Sir?”

“Always baby… I want your legs to shake.”

You take a look around and blush crimson, catching his eyes staring seemingly right into your soul. This wasn’t the first time you’d ridden his thigh and it wouldn’t be the last but you always felt so self conscious under his gaze. You lift yourself a little and roll your hips slowly along his thigh until you could feel your own slickness on his skin.

“You don’t seem very needy.” He teases.

You whine and move your hips faster, lifting your skirt a little to give Henry the best view of your pussy lips gliding over his muscular thigh.

“Aah I see… well are you close?” he keeps his voice quiet and listens to you panting.

“Yes, Sir. May I cum?” You moan and throw your head back, desperately rocking your hips against him.

”I told you, yes…. Now if you ask again I’ll have to spank you while my fingers make you cum again.”

You whine and pout “oh god…” pushing your tee up above your breasts and pinching your nipple just enough for that pleasureful sting.

“That’s it, just let go… show me how badly you need my cock stretching your pussy… how badly you want me to fill you up… you’re my needy little slut…”

You moan and tilt your hips as you ride him; cumming over him and dripping over his thigh.

“Good girl, doing as you’re told… I think you deserve my cock inside you…” Henry helps move you to slouch back on the bench while he frees his hard cock “you know how much I love hearing you cum; getting off for me.” His hand wraps around his length and he strokes slowly, happy to see you watching so attentively.

Henry spreads your legs and kneels against the edge of the garden bench between them then lifts you onto his lap and along his cock; his eyes flutter but don’t fully close as you easily fit his entire length inside you. You let your head fall back over the bench and gasp out his name as you settle on him; licking your lips and whining when he doesn’t immediately begin to move.

“Please, Sir.” You watch him and run your hands over his arms, scratching lightly and making him growl low.

He hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts your legs to sit on his shoulders; gripping the back of the bench to steady himself. “You want me to fuck you, Princess?”

“Yes, god fuck yes, Sir! I’m your needy slut and I need you too!” You plead and rock your hips for emphasis.

“Such a filthy mouth…we’ll deal with that another day…” he winks and snaps his hips with a low grunt making you arch your back. “More?”

“Yes! Yes, Sir!”

Henry doesn’t give you chance to get your answer out fully before his hips are moving like pistons into you; the bench wood threatening to snap away from its concrete base with every thrust of his cock into you. You cross your ankles behind his head and grip the seat of the bench to help you move your hips to his the best you can. It doesn’t take long for his thrusts and ruts to become relentless; you fail to call anything except incoherent cuss words and his name amongst your groans and whines of pleasure.

“Please…. Close!” You pant heavily.

“Then cum!” It’s almost a demand and your eyes fly open at the tone of his voice. Henry doesn’t miss the look on your face and he smirks.

He thrusts hard; your pussy juice already soaking both his thighs. “I. Said. Cum.”

This time it’s a full demand; your entire spirit and being is in tune together and you stutter out a scream. Your pussy tightens around Henry’s cock and threatens to push him out but he drives deep into you with his own release and grips the back of the bench tight enough to crack the wood plank behind your head.

After a few moments you both relax and lean against each other breathing heavily. Henry helps move your legs to a more relaxed position and wraps his arms around you, moving you both onto the bench to relax.

“You really were needy for me, huh?” He kisses you softly and strokes your face. “You okay, Princess?”

You nod and hum into the kiss “I’m good, Sir. For you I’m always needy…”

#Henry Cavill #Superman #Needy #Henry Cavill Imagine #the cavillry #imagine

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elriel-oblivion · 3 years

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I think it's been three days? Dunno, I don't keep track of day or night like I should lol but here's part three 😁 Next part up in five days so I can waste even more time before writing part six pft 😅 Thanks to all who interacted with the last post 😊🥰🤗

Word count: 3K. Lemme know if you'd like to tagged/removed 😊

Shoutout to @julesherondalex @verifiefangirl and @queen-of-glass for picking up on my fave paragraphs in the last part 😁😭 Can anyone do it again? Maybe I should make this a thing lol, shoutout to anyone who can find my faves. I think there are only two (or technically three?) this time 😅

Also, I'll prob put this up on AO3 this weekend, thanks to @acourtofcouture for reminding me 😊

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part III

Warmth soaked into Azriel as Elain poured a jug of water over his head. His throat loosened as that warmth fluttered through his body, pulsing against those frozen veins and humming under his skin. Goosebumps tickled his arms.

But it was nothing compared to the sheer bliss that rippled through him as her fingers delved into his hair. It was an effort to restrain the groan reaching through his throat, so he let out a light sigh instead. He didn't think it prudent for Elain to hear him moan under her care. She was so kind to do this for him; he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.

Two more jugs of water followed.

'Is that nice?' she asked, as though it could be anything but. It felt almost exactly like his mother's hands when she'd wash his hair in those so few minutes he was allowed to see her every week. Gentle and tender and pleasant.

He could fall asleep here if he weren't so aware of Elain in the room with him. Touching him. As it were, that warmth pulled deeper into him, loosing his muscles, thawing his bones.

'It is.' His voice sounded thick and he cleared his throat.

She was silent as her fingers worked, and after a minute or two, she rubbed soap into her hands. The scent of lavender filled the air. She massaged his scalp and lathered his locks, her touch so comforting it almost broke him.

Cauldron boil him, she was so much like his mother, right down to the scent of the soap she used. Her touch had just the right amounts of care and force as it worked across his scalp, relieving a knot of tension at the base of his skull.

His blood was now a soft thrum under his skin, that warmth guiding him further from consciousness, like he was wrapped in his shadows, safe from expectations, safe from judgement, safe from the world.

'Azriel?' came Elain's voice.

He jolted, eyes snapping open. 'Huh?'

She let out a light laugh. 'Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.'

Indeed, his shadows swirled around him, thickest by his eyes. 'Sorry,' he murmured, leashing them back in.

'Don't be. You can close your eyes again.'

As he did, he noted how soft her voice had been, the sombre touch to her words. She hadn't stepped away from his shadows. They must've been cold on her skin, but she'd made no comment. What did she think of them? It irked him not to know.

She continued her work, occasionally adding more water to his hair. Her fingertips rubbed his scalp, the cool night air touched with that lovely lavender.

Behind his closed eyelids, his mother smiled at him. Her smile was so sweet, so radiant and inviting, so homely that he wished he could freeze time to extend that one hour into eternity.

'You're so beautiful, my boy,' she whispered, her voice tender. Her arms were extended and he ran into them, savouring the comfort he found there. It was astonishing that he could experience this warmth after those long miserable days in that cell.

Those days. They often blended into each other, dark and dank as the cell itself. When he'd be taken to see his mother, light through the windows was painful as it pierced him. It was always too bright, the sun. Always too penetrating, like those rays sought him out to display all his wrongness - especially his shadows, a frenzied, wild and unchained beast before he learnt to control them. Terrible, dark magic not born of the Mother, his father constantly claimed.

And oh, how dark those shadows looked in the sunlight.

But then he'd be reunited with his mother, and her light was mellow. Soft like a caress, serene as sunset, always calming his hurricane of shadows. She bathed him in her light, let it wash over him with her smiles and kind words, ever flowing in their hours together.

He regretted most the little time he had with his mother growing up. Resented it, for it was neither of their faults. It was always too fast, that weekly hour, and when he was finally thrown in the Illyrian camps without a clue what his culture truly meant, it was eternities before he could see his mother again and bask in her soothing glow. Those times were long and cold, even with his found brothers by his side.

His mother's image faded into darkness as something soft touched his eye. 'Mother?' he rasped.

'No, it's Elain,' whispered Elain.

Elain? As he opened his eyes and blinked, his murky vision cleared and he found her staring down at him in her dim bathroom, brow creased. His shadows were everywhere but one of her hands held a fresh towel; the other hovered by his eye. He dispersed his shadows into clear air. What did she make of his address?

And was that salt he scented?

Cauldron, did he - did he cry?

'I asked you to lift your head but you'd fallen asleep,' Elain said. 'I didn't want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you'll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.' She frowned.

When had he fallen asleep? And how could it have been so sound a sleep that he didn't feel Elain finish? There must be magic in those fingertips of hers to relax him so deeply.

'Right,' he said, slowly sitting up. His neck was stiff and Elain reached behind to hold it as he pulled it forward. Water dripped down his temples, off his head, some drops pattering on the floor.

Elain patted his head with the towel, wiping his neck and forehead. She brushed wet strands away from his face, her focus so intent on his hair. He dropped his heavy head, and she gave the back a more thorough dry. A few minutes of ruffling his hair around, during which she pulled the towel from his neck, and she seemed satisfied. She raked her fingers through his hair, flattening the spiky mess he was sure sat atop his head, and a ripple of comfort descended through him. She discarded the towels on her bathtub.

As a thin breeze breathed over his wet head, he noticed the plants resting on small stools around the tub. How did he not see them earlier? Exhaustion, he supposed.

Blooms and vines overflowed their small pots, cascading down in bursts of bright colour. Three hanging baskets of what he smelled as rosemary lined the wall, wild green clusters of stems trailing over the edges and hiding the ivory stone behind. He wanted to touch all those soft petals and velveteen leaves, feel the depth of Elain's care through their touch.

He made to stand, but she held his shoulder. 'Wait,' she said. 'I want to clean your face, too.'

He'd forgotten about all the dirt she'd found there earlier.

She wet a cloth and knelt by his side, touching the cloth to his cheek, right above the gash that rogue Illyrian had opened earlier.

He winced, the skin tight where the mud had dried.

'Sorry,' she said softly, pausing.

With a smile, he gave her the same response she'd given him earlier: 'Don't be.'

Elain breathed a laugh and dipped her head. 'That cut does look very bad, though. I think I'll have to clean it with alcohol too.'

'Let's crack open that wine, then.'

She laughed again and blushed. 'Not tonight, Azriel.' And she patted his cheek again, rubbing off the dirt and blood.

The sound of his name on her tongue heated his blood. It wasn't that pleasant warmth as she'd washed his hair; no, this was something more charged. Something that settled his weariness into a quiet hum and left him a little more awake.

He drew in his shadows, sending them through his veins. The cool they delivered wasn't nearly enough to pacify his rising heartbeat. Not with Elain so close. If he moved forward just a few inches, there'd be no space left between them.

He didn't usually think of Elain like this. Think of the feel of her mouth on his.

He blamed the exhaustion, even as it hunkered down.

And - she was so lovely. And he was Azriel. He should be disgusted that he was here, letting her tend to him, making jokes with her, imagining them kissing. That was enough to tame his heart a while.

But Cauldron boil him. How would he sleep with his mind teeming with so much conflict. The dead girl and her family, his mother. Elain too now, whether he liked it or not. He'd hoped his physical fatigue would win over his crowded mind. That he'd get some proper rest and deal with all the rogue Illyrian troubles and whatever else later.

Apparently not this night.

As Elain stood and washed the cloth, he let out a deep breath through his nose, then shifted on the seat, hoping to put more space between them. Distance - even an inch - might be helpful.

Not that he'd make the first move.

He never did.

Elain knelt down again, wiping the cloth across his jawline, nose, cheek. He faced her to give her more access, but she kept her gaze intent everywhere except his eyes, as if cleaning his skin required her utmost focus.

Look at me, he almost said. With her so close to him, it was maddening not to share even an accidental glance.

She abruptly went to close the window, a heavier silence settling over the room, then moved to the cupboard by the door, pulling out a small bottle of alcohol. Her petite frame looked so delicate, yet a tautness relaxed from her body in the way her shoulders loosened. It was probably just her defence against the cold, though the temperature was nothing but mild to him.

She poured a few drops onto a clean cloth and took her place beside him. She cringed. 'This'll hurt.'

He smiled faintly. 'It's all right.' He doubted he'd even feel it.

She delicately touched the cloth to his cheekbone and he clenched his jaw, the alcohol harbouring more ire than he expected. Mother above, that was a deep cut.

Elain creased her brow and patted along the gash. 'Are you all right, Azriel?' Her voice was subdued.

The truth would be more painful to put out. 'I'm all right. Are you all right, Elain?'

'I'm fine.'

He doubted her just as she probably doubted him. The dark circles around her eyes were faint but still there. But theirs was a friendship of mutual respect and boundaries. If she didn't impose on his, he certainly wouldn't do so on hers.

But oh, how he wished she would feel comfortable enough to truly confide in him right now. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done so; he just needed to be patient. But he'd do anything to relieve the tension humming behind her eyes. From her manic visions, pain he knew lurked under her skin and in her mind, general exhaustion from keeping up appearances - he would swallow them all in his shadows and dispel them on the highest wind if it meant she would be all right.

They were silent as she finished up. When she washed the cloth, he turned in the seat and spoke. 'You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.'

She beamed at him and her eyes finally met his. 'I know.'

He stood, holding her gaze. Something was very off about that smile.

Her hands fiddled to turn off the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers. Her body faced his, and her smile fell, brows rising slightly. She cleared her throat. 'We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It'll be warmer there.'

In an instant, they were wrapped in shadows, her wrist in his hand, and the great living room came into view. A thin sheet of moonlight through the windows was the only illumination. Just as their feet found the floor, Elain bent to put three logs into the fireplace, lighting them after a few tries. 'Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren't they?' she said.

He huffed a laugh and rested a forearm against the mantelpiece, crossing a leg over the other. 'They can be.'

The blaze flared out and she stepped back, looking up at him through that shadowy amber glow. 'Just a few minutes now and we'll be warm.'

Her eyes didn't leave his. And how stunning they were, soft and subtle in the dim light. The brown looked richer among the warm tones of the fire, something like dark chocolate - or rosewood, perhaps, with a mahogany undertone.

'I think you'll need a bandage for that wound,' she said.

'I'll be fine without it.'

'It's quite deep.'

'Not a match for my Illyrian healing.' He smirked, trying to relieve whatever pressure thrummed in the air between them. He hadn't even noticed it come; one moment the air was clear, the next it was pulsing a steady beat. What the hell was this? Did she feel it too? He wished his shadows would just devour the tension, if only to reduce his own shame.

Her eyes flicked to his wings behind him, and they rustled, spreading a bit. He straightened. The heat in his blood turned to a simmer and he knew in his bones it had nothing to do with the fire. Why couldn't he control this? She met his eyes again.

He'd wanted to see her eyes on his, but now they were just too focused, and if she didn't stop looking at him like this, like she could see the blood beginning to bubble beneath his skin -

She cleared her throat and scanned his face, likely checking she hadn't missed anything. 'Oh,' she said, raising a finger to his temple.

Her touch on his skin sent his blood boiling. His heart was pounding a loud rhythm and because his mind was so muddled from the fight and the blood and his childhood somehow entering his conscience, and the lines between the past and the present were so blurred tonight, and this heat was just searing - he grasped Elain's wrist where it hovered by his face.

Her breath hitched, eyes snapping to his.

This was wrong, this was so utterly wrong, but he couldn't let go. What had he done?

She stared at him, through him. 'I can hear your heartbeat,' she choked out.

Through the crackling fire, she could hear him.

He was silent. His body tensed.

'And it's a beautiful sound.'

His pulse spiked like his heart sang out to her, called her name. Did she - could she - feel the same as he?

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

The air was stifling. Cursed flames. Every thought in his head narrowed to the girl before him. Her eyes glistened.

He wasn't sure he was breathing.

Was she?

Her eyes swept his face. They stopped at his lips.

'Are you going to kiss me?' she whispered.

So focused on her plump, rosy lips, he almost didn't hear the hiss of a log as it tumbled further into the fire. His throat bobbed. Maybe - just maybe this could be okay. Maybe if she wanted it as much as he did, he could put aside his own self-loathing for a moment. Elain was different, an essence of light in and of herself. Her core radiated brilliance; it'd take more than just a few of his shadows to snuff out her glow.

And damn the consequences anyway. The Azriel of later would deal with them. If he didn't burn alive here first.

He swallowed. 'Only if you want me to.'

'Yes.'

His chest tightened at the resolve in her tone. Yearning and compunction warred within. He craved her touch, yet disgrace corded his heart. How could he even think this could be fine? She would be poisoned, made impure by his mouth.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

She trusted him. He wasn't sure why, but she trusted him. What could he give in return? His scars? He lowered his gaze, her wrist still soft in his hand. He felt his arm move like a dead weight, but it was only the feel of her thumb on his brow, smoothing out the crease there, that mollified him, that unravelled and burned away that cord of disgrace. He released a long breath.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

And it was the clarity in her voice, the pure stability that had him leaning down - slowly, so slowly. Doubt flickered along his bones but he couldn't savour the anticipation enough. This moment would change their path for ever.

His heart thundered with every inch he yielded, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek, fingers setting so perfectly over the delicate plane of her face. Her breath stilled when he was but a whisper from her mouth, and he paused.

Her floral scent fanned him, melding with the smokiness of the flames. Was that datura he smelled? Those exquisite flowers he loved so much, with their large petals curling off in tapered tips so like his own shadows. The first memory he had of them, that conversation where Elain had grabbed his wrist.

He was still holding hers now.

Her doe eyes were so steady on his. 'Kiss me,' she murmured.

He closed his eyes and removed the space between them.

So much for never making the first move.

___

So what's your fave ice cream flavour?

Feedback, constructive criticism welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17 @a-happybird @thewayshedreamed @sleeping-and-books @thefangirlofhp

#elain archeron #azriel #azriel acotar #elriel #elain x azriel #acotar

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daveeddiggsit · 3 years

Text

The Plan

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt viii)

Note: Thank you @braidedchallah for proofreading. Reminder — before you kill me — there is one chapter left (and an epilogue). Keep that in mind. Enjoy. Feel free to yell at me afterwards. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry for what you’re about to experience.

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Tutor!Reader

Warnings: angst. possible breakup. perhaps some crying. implied sex (more than once). thom being a perfect boyfriend. thom looking fine af in denim (i’m trash).

Summary: Goodbyes are hard.

Tags: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can @astralaffairs @braidedchallah (if i forgot anyone i apologize, just lemme know for next time)

As one of the smartest kids in your graduating class, you have a certain reputation to uphold. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA isn’t easy, which means that you have to choose all the right answers and make all the right decisions.

As it turns out, you seem to be pretty good at that. Being right about a lot of things, academic or not, seems to come naturally to you. Especially when it comes to a certain curly-haired athlete who also happens to be your boyfriend of over a year.

You had been right when you told him that he would recover from his ankle injury on the night it happened. Well, you can’t be entirely sure of that yet since he’s still not clear to engage in full-action sports, but it’s incredibly clear that he’s well on his way to recovering fully.

Almost exactly seven weeks after the incident, he’d gotten his cast removed and replaced with a boot so that he could put weight on his ankle again. Since then, he’s been in physical therapy almost daily in order to make sure that he’s healing the right way. According to him, he’s progressing well every week and is slowly regaining his mobility, strength, and speed. Just two weeks ago he ditched the boot so that he could finally put on a pair of shoes; you remember the grin on his face when he gave you a little dance to show off the new kicks he’d gotten as celebration.

He’s not 100% healthy yet, and he certainly won’t be back on the field (or track) for another couple months until he’s clear to practice, but you’re proud that he’s been able to recover as much as he has in relatively so little time.

On the night of his injury, you’d also been right about another thing: the fact that Thomas would receive college offers.

And that’s what you’re celebrating today.

After weeks and weeks of advocating for himself and sending his player reel and personal letters to the head coaches of schools he wanted to attend, he finally got an offer from one of his top college choices: the University of Virginia.

While their football team isn’t the most notable in the nation, their program is one of the best in the state of Virginia at a Division I level, and that’s pretty much all Thomas wants. After he recovers fully, Thomas will make an excellent asset to the team since one of their starting wide receivers is entering the NFL Draft after this year.

At UVA, Thomas would get the play time he needs to shine and show his true colors and talent as a wide receiver all while having a coaching staff there to support him and his every need. Their academic program for liberal arts is also something Thomas has been looking at in a school since he plans on majoring in English.

With all of that said, the Jefferson household decides to host a special dinner for their son in celebration of the wonderful news.

And while under normal circumstances, you would feel happy and excited for your boyfriend and his amazing accomplishment, instead you have a voice that lingers in the back of your mind reminding you of the similar news you had received just a week prior.

Thomas isn’t the only one with a huge scholarship offer.

After applying to many different schools with somewhat notable engineering programs in-state (because let’s be real, out-of-state tuition is absurdly expensive), you’ve received only a few grants from NYU and Syracuse University, but it isn’t enough to cover all of tuition.

But when you’d received an email last week from the one out-of-state school you had applied to last minute, your heart had just about dropped from your chest.

UCLA is offering you a full-ride.

You should be happy that you have an incredible offer. You should be elated for Thomas with his scholarship offer, too. However, you can’t help but feel a looming sense of stress every time you think about telling him.

That’s why you haven’t told him yet; it’s been nine days.

“Y/N?”

Thomas’ voice snaps you out of your thoughts and suddenly you are brought back to reality. You’re dressed up and sitting at the dinner table with Thomas across from his parents. The menu of the night consists of a couple different French dishes that his mother had learned to make a few years back when they visited Paris for an entire summer. His mother’s rendition of the food is nothing short of amazing.

Your eyes meet the warm brown ones that belong to your boyfriend as you turn your head to glance at him next to you. “Hmm?”

”You didn’t hear anythin’ I said, did you?” Thomas chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you put on a guilty simper.

“No, sorry.” You breathe out a small laugh in order to cover up your underlying nervousness. “I zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?”

“Well, I’m arguin’ a case here. Technically, a hot dog — a piece of meat held together by two pieces of bread - is a sandwich, right? In simple terms and by definition this should be true, so don’t overthink it. My dad keeps saying it’s not, but please, Y/N, you gotta side with me this time.”

You take a breath in and click your tongue. “I don’t know, Peter, I think I gotta go with Thom on this one.”

“Yes!” Thomas celebrates, throwing his arms up dramatically. “I told you!”

Mr. Jefferson’s mouth drops at your response. “How dare you take his side. Did all those other times teaming up at dinner and making fun of him mean nothing to you?”

If it hadn’t been evident prior to this moment where Thomas gets his overdramatics from, then it’s certainly clear now.

“Case closed.” Thomas smirks, crossing his arms, proud of himself.

“What are you talking about? The case is far from closed.” His father retorts, splaying his arms out, causing Thomas’ mom to speak out.

“Hey, calm down, you two. You’re gonna make a mess if you keep on bangin’ the table like that.” She chastises them. They both mutter their apologies before Thomas’ father continues on defending himself.

“Y/N, why’d you choose his side? You know I’m right. Don’t let that boy guilt trip you; he’s still gonna love you if you disagree with him.”

“Sorry, Peter.” You shrug, sneaking a glance at Thomas who’s watching you with a glint in his eyes. “As much as I don’t want to agree with your son on this one, I unfortunately do.”

Thomas pauses to narrow his eyes as you in puzzled manor. “‘Unfortunately?’ Your words wound me, sweetheart, really.” He says in a teasing tone before his smile turns smug as he directs his attention towards his father. “But you see, Dad? It’s 2 against 1. ‘M sorry to say, but your opinion is overruled.”

Mr. Jefferson waves his son off dismissively. “That’s horseshit; your mother hasn’t sided with anyone yet. We still have one more vote to count.”

“Language, Peter.” The woman in question warns, giving him a look that’s only half serious.

“Well, honey? You agree with me, don’t you?” Peter asks his wife with pleading eyes, causing her to roll hers.

“Sure, sweetie.”

You shake your head and smile, leaning back in your chair to watch the antics unfold.

“What? Ma, why you takin’ his side?” Thomas jumps in. “I’m supposed to be your favorite, you know.”

“Of course you’re my favorite; you’re my only child, Thomas.” His mother deadpans, causing Thomas to frown.

It’s Peter’s turn now to smirk at Thomas and you. “See? Now we’re tied. Opinion very much not overruled, thank you.”

“Wait, what was your side of the argument again?” Mrs. Jefferson asks her husband. “You said a hot dog is a sandwich, right?”

“No, that’s what I said.” Thomas interjects.

“Oh, well then I agree with Thomas.”

“Ha!” Your boyfriend exclaims, pointing at his dad. “I told you! Your opinion is not valid. Hot dogs are sandwiches. End of story.”

“They are not sandwiches! They are a different entity. How can you compare a ham and cheese to a weiner between two buns? Well I’ll tell you. You can’t!”

“For the last time, Dad. It’s a piece of meat in between two pieces of bread. That is classified as what? A sandwich!”

“With that logic, you’d say that a burger is a sandwich, too?”

“Yup.”

“There is somethin’ wrong with y’all.” Peter shakes his head, picking at the leftover food on his plate. “I thought I raised you better, T. Y/N, I expected you to take my side on this one.”

“Sorry, Mr. J.” You shrug. “Tommy’s right. A piece of meat in between two pieces of bread does indeed technically classify it as a sandwich.”

“Y’all got me thinkin’ that I’m the crazy one now.” Peter sighs defeatedly.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that nonsense.” Thomas’ mother chuckles, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Thomas, honey, your father and I are very proud of you and are excited for your opportunity at UVA.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Thomas grins. “I’m excited, too.”

Under the table, Thomas’ hand finds yours and laces your fingers together. Its warmth is comforting and the small moment makes you forget about everything for just a moment. A small silence stretches on for a bit before Peter speaks up.

“So, Y/N, how are your college applications going? Have you gotten any scholarships yet? I feel like you’re too smart to not get anything.”

Your stomach drops at the question. You really hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this, and while it is a simple question that you should be able to answer quickly… you don’t. You hesitate and Thomas notices.

You want to tell the truth, you really do, but you can’t. This is Thomas’ night to celebrate and the last thing you want to do is mess it up with news that you’d be going to school across the country. Tonight is supposed to be about him, not you.

So you lie.

“Oh, um, no, not yet.” You chuckle nervously. The hand holding Thomas’ fidgets slightly and he squeezes lightly to try and help calm your nerves. “I mean, I’ve gotten into NYU and Syracuse so far. Still waiting to hear from Columbia. I haven’t heard much as far as scholarships, though, unfortunately. I’ve received a few grants here and there, but nothing too big.”

“Columbia, wow. What’s their acceptance rate? 10%?” Mrs. Jefferson asks, seemingly interested.

“6%.” Thomas jumps in to answer before glancing at you with a small smile. “I don’t think Y/N will have any trouble getting in, though.”

You send him the biggest smile you can muster, though you feel like it sort of comes out as a grimace. “Thanks, T.” You say softly.

Beat.

“What time is it? I think it’s past my bedtime.” Peter yawns, checking his watch. “10 o’clock? Where did the time go? Y/N, are you going to be okay driving home this late?”

“It’s not that late, Mr. Jefferson. I should be fine.” You’ve definitely driven home from Thomas’ place past 10pm before (multiple times), but you’re not telling him that. “I do think I should probably leave soon, though.”

“You wanna go get your things upstairs, then I can walk you out?” Thomas asks you with a mischievous look in his eye. Knowing him, he probably just wants to get you alone for a bit before you leave. Even through your nervousness to tell him the truth, you can’t deny his charm.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Tommy.”

Then, both you and Thomas excuse yourselves from the table. You make sure to thank Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson for dinner and the invite. You’re always honored to be included in their family events even if it’s something as small as dinner on a Friday night.

When you make it up to Thomas’ room, he doesn’t waste another moment before he kisses you softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek after he gently shuts the door.

“Been waitin’ to do that all night.” He grins afterwards, softly brushing over the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

You smile as you bring your hands up to his shoulders, wordlessly leaning forward to sweetly press your lips to his again.

“Missed you.” He mumbles as he pulls away to lean his forehead against yours. “Feel like we haven’t been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

He’s right. With both of you not having any classes together this year, you both worried about college applications, Thomas not in football season anymore and in and out of PT almost constantly, you two haven’t been seeing each other as much as you’d like. Another reason why you haven’t been able to tell Thomas about UCLA (aside from the fact that you simply don’t have the guts to do it).

“I know.” You sigh, looking off to the side for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault. We’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah, but still.” You say softly. “Feels bad. I miss you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m right here, baby. Don’t need to go far.”

You smile haphazardly and roll your eyes as you bring your hand up to the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. Who knows how many more of these you’ll get before you both graduate and have to go your separate ways.

Before it can go too far, you pull away again.

“T?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m so proud of you.” You say genuinely because you really want him to know. You feel like you don’t tell him enough (even though that’s not the case). “Really, I am. You deserve that scholarship and so much more.”

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs while a soft smile adorns his face. “Hey, if none of these in-state schools give you anything, I think you’d have a good chance at getting something at UVA. They have an honors college that gives up a ton of grants and shit, you should look into it. I’m not sure if the applications are still open, but worth a try.”

You purse your lips before you give him your response. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“I’m sure you’ll get something anyway, but just wanted to bring that up and let you know.”

“Appreciate the thought, Thom.”

Thomas grins, giving you one last peck on the lips before finally turning away to remove his overcoat. He double takes when he sees your face drop slightly. His eyebrows furrow as he notices your mood shift. “Hey, what’s wrong? Somethin’ botherin’ you? Not gonna lie, you’ve been a little off all night, sweetheart...”

You hesitate, not able to look him in the eye, the guilt eating you alive. The pressure of holding everything in is building up and while Thomas is normally your rock, the one you can go to for anything, you can’t this time, and you can feel it wearing you down.

You take in a shaky deep breath before you go to sit down on his bed, eyes cast towards the ground. “I’m okay, T, I’m just… stressed. With school.” You say, finally willing yourself to look up into his caring gaze. It hurts to lie to him, but you keep telling yourself that it’s his night.

“You sure?” He asks, taking a seat next to you to gently grab your hand in his. “Seriously, baby, I know when somethin’s up. What’s on that brilliant mind of yours, huh?” He lightly bumps his shoulder against yours in a teasing gesture, causing you to let out a half-hearted chuckle. He always knows how to get a laugh out of you, doesn’t he? “I know you’re worried about more than that stats test you have next week. Tell me what’s really botherin’ you.” He says softly, catching your gaze again.

Sighing once more, you tear your eyes away from his pleading ones. “I um…” You trail off after trying and failing to come up with another lie or excuse.

Thomas always draws your worries and frustrations out of you; he knows you so well to the point where he knows exactly what to say to convince you to tell him something. Honesty has never been a problem in your relationship, and the last thing you want is to push it to a point of no return. You already feel terrible for withholding the truth; you want to be free from this secret you’ve been holding.

And suddenly seven words echo in your head:

“Tell him. He’ll understand. He loves you.”

Your eyes flit back up to meet his concerned gaze. Here it goes.

“I did get a scholarship. All tuition and expenses paid. I got the email a week and a half ago and I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen at the confession, taken aback by how big the news is.

“Holy shit, Y/N, that’s… that’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you. Not surprised, but proud nonetheless.” He says genuinely, a smile evident on his face before it drops slightly. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?” There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again. “Wait, why’d you lie at dinner when my dad asked?”

You give him a sad smile before you look away again, fidgeting with your fingers on the hand that Thomas isn’t holding. “I didn’t want to take over your night, T. And I didn’t tell you when I found out because… the school’s in Cali.” You say, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

He cocks his head to the side slightly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you only applied to schools in-state.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips before you respond. “That’s what I had planned originally, but my advisor pushed me to apply for this scholarship program at UCLA and… well, I got in.”

Thomas goes silent for a few moments as he looks off to the side, breathing deeply. It’s hard to tell what he’s feeling. Then, he lets out a low whistle. “Full-ride to UCLA, huh?” He says softly before he turns to look at you.

“Thomas…” You start, your voice soft and full of worry, but he continues to talk.

“Are you going to accept it?” He asks and you nod slowly.

Ideally, you have no other real choice; by going to UCLA you’d graduate with zero debt. And with UCLA’s engineering program and opportunities that other schools can’t fulfill, it fills all the boxes you want in a university.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Really. I’m glad they recognize how amazing you are.” The tone in Thomas’ voice is fond and he’s absolutely sure of the words he’s saying. “It’s far away, I know, but we can make it work.”

The emotions in his eyes are conflicting, but they still hold unrelenting love and support in them. When you hesitate to respond, his eyes search yours, trying to find some sort of answer in them, but before he can decipher anything, you tear your gaze from his.

“Right?” He asks as his grip on your palm loosens until your hand falls back into your lap, the warmth from Thomas’ fingers completely vanished. “Baby, talk to me. Please.”

“Thom, I… I want to think that but I’m not sure.” You admit quietly, and having said that, you can see something in Thomas’ composure crumble.

He shakes his head. “Nah, don’t you say that. We can make this work, Y/N.” His voice wavers slightly as he stands up and runs a hand over his curls, smoothing them back and away from his face. “I haven’t accepted the offer at UVA. I can decline and apply to UCLA—”

“T, I’m not going to ask you to do that—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to ask me, love. I’m willing to do this all on my own. Like I said, we can make this work. I’ll improvise. My parents can afford it, then I can just join the football team as a walk-on. I’m confident I’ll make it. Since they didn’t give me an offer I’ll prove them wrong and be the best damn walk-on they ever had.”

“Thomas, don’t—”

“I can also have my dad send the head coach a letter. I didn’t wanna pull that for any other schools because I wanted to earn all my offers — and because of the whole nepotism thing — but I’ll make an exception for—”

“Thomas, please!” You raise your voice and when he finally stops, you immediately regret it. You’ve never raised your voice like that with him before and doing so right now feels terrible.

“Please, T, just stop. I don’t want you to do any of that for me. How long have you been waiting for UVA to give you a chance? How many letters have you personally written to Coach Michaels, begging him to consider you for one of their open receiver positions?”

Thomas is silent as you speak, knowing full well that you have a point. You continue.

“You’ve been set on UVA as your top school for a couple months now. Don’t forget how hyped you were when you finally got the offer this morning. And now you want to just throw that away? No. I’m sorry, Thom, but I am not going to be the one to take it away from you.”

“You’re not.” He says earnestly. “Taking it away from me, I mean. I want to do this for you. For us. UCLA has a good football program, too, all I have to do is pull some strings if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay, well I’m not letting you do that. Thomas, it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. Think about this, okay? Think about yourself and your football career and all the opportunities that you’ll have for yourself down in Virginia. Don’t let me get in the way of that! I don’t want each of us to be an obstacle in each other’s successes.”

Thomas gives you an incredulous look and stills himself. “Are you serious? Is that what you consider our relationship? An obstacle?”

You look away, sighing. “No, T, I… I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t know that.” He looks at you with a distressed gaze, all traces of comfort and playfulness gone and replaced with hurt… caused by you — something you never would have thought you’d see in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Today’s supposed to be your day.”

“Let me get one thing straight, Y/N. Our relationship is not an obstacle… it never has been and it never will be.” Thomas says coldly and you cringe when he calls you by your full name in a tone that’s less than friendly.

“I just don’t want our love for each other to get in the way of…” You trail off, but decide against speaking mid-sentence. “You know what, nevermind.”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Thomas,” you start, making eye contact with him once again. “I don’t want to get in the way of your football career. It’s unfair; I can’t do that to you, T. You deserve to make the most of your career in college so that you can make it to the NFL. That’s your dream, right? To play in the NFL for the New York Giants like your father did. Am I right?”

His jaw clenches slightly as he nods, and you continue.

“The coach at UVA believes in you — even through your injury. Why are you going to throw that away? In order to be with your high school girlfriend? Do you see how childish that sounds?” A beat of silence passes before you continue in a softer tone.

“I just… I don’t want you to do that, Thomas, it’s too big of a risk. You have a solid spot at UVA to prove yourself on the field. If you drop that for a walk-on position at UCLA, it’ll be a mistake. Instead of proving yourself to NFL recruiters, you’ll be set on proving yourself to college coaches just to get a chance on the field. I want you to have the best chances at making it to the NFL.” Now it’s your turn to stand up. You pace away from him as you continue to speak.

“Let’s say you do follow me to UCLA and join the football program. What if… what if something happens while we’re in college and we’re not together anymore? What will happen? You’d have potentially messed up your career for me and I don’t want that to happen, T. I’m sorry but I won’t let that happen.”

Thomas holds a hand up to stop you from your ramblings. He speaks his next words slowly. “Wait, wait, hold on now. You think we’re going to break up in college?”

You roll your eyes in frustration, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s not what I said—”

“No, no that’s exactly what you said.” He responds coldly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’m starting to question our intentions in this relationship, Y/N. Did you ever plan on us being long term?”

“See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell you. I didn’t want this to happen.” You say, annoyed that it’s gotten to this point of you two having an argument.

“You just gonna ignore my question?”

“Before applying to schools, T, I wasn’t even thinking about the future. I was taking things day by day. We were both pent up in our little perfect world, but right now we need to face reality.”

“Okay, so then why’d you keep this a secret from me? Were you plannin’ on keepin’ this to yourself until graduation? I don’t know if you knew this, sweetheart, but a relationship is a two-way street and involves a little somethin’ called communication.” His snarky tone fills the room and has you rolling your eyes again. “Girlfriends aren’t supposed to lie to their boyfriends and then get mad at him for reacting a certain way when she finally decides to tell him huge news.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” You say, breathing out another sigh and softening up at his last sentence. He’s right; you shouldn’t have kept it a secret. “I wanted to tell you, I just, I don’t know what’s gonna happen after we graduate, okay? And I’m scared.”

“You don’t think we can work through that together? As a team?” Thomas’ eyes are begging you to reason with him. “I’m scared, too, but we’ll figure something out. Right?”

The look in your eyes is distant as you cast them down to the ground. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we could do a long distance thing. I’ve seen other couples do it.”

You fiddle with a loose thread on your sweater. “I don’t know, T. We’ll see if we can come up with something.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a hot-tempered laugh. “Okay.” He says shortly.

“What?”

“So you don’t want me to drop everything and go to UCLA with you, which is fine. I understand that. But now you’re telling me that you don’t wanna do long distance?”

“I didn’t say that, I just— we need to be realistic, Thom.”

“What does that even mean?!” He yells, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at you. You hate it.

“We have to keep the future in mind!”

“I want you in my future! Don’t you want me in your future?”

“We both have different ideas of what we want. Different dreams, okay? You can’t have your dream of making it to the NFL and also have me when I plan on going to an engineering program across the country!”

You’re deflecting and he knows it.

“Answer the damn question, Y/N.” He says lowly, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Of course I want you in my future, Thomas!” You say exasperatedly, looking at the ceiling. “What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me if I’m strugglin’ to believe that when you’re actin’ like this.” He says, his voice taking a more neutral tone, but he sounds exhausted. “You’re going to school across the country and you were hesitant to tell me - fine. I fucking get it. But you can’t just say that we’ll probably break up in college and think that that is fucking okay. It’s not! And you can’t say ‘I don’t know’ about dating long distance when that’s literally the only other option we have.”

“That’s the thing, Thomas. I don’t know if that’s the only other option we have.”

His face looks puzzled as he looks at you for a few seconds before realization finally settles in. Thomas narrows his eyes at you once again, his gaze cold, making your heart drop in your chest. “You wanna break up, don’t you?”

“No.” You state, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t want to. But we have to think about—”

“Our future, yeah. I get it.” Thomas snaps, cutting you off. “You know what? You want to talk about the future? Fine. Maybe we should.” He says simply, crossing his arms. “If you think we’re just going to break up in college anyway, maybe we should just speed up the process and get it over with.”

You shake your head at him. “Thomas, don’t do this. That’s not what I want.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“I’m done arguing with you, Jefferson.” You breathe out tiredly, running a hand through your hair.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks completely drained as he speaks again, his voice now calm. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”

A small silence fills the air before you answer quietly. “I don’t know, T.”

What are you both doing? Arguing about whether or not your relationship should continue after high school? Maybe you are being a little irrational about it, implying that you should break up before college and all. Thomas’ reaction to it all is understandable because he doesn’t want to lose you. However, he needs to be truthful to himself. Is this relationship going to work when the two of you are seeking entirely different career paths on opposite coasts?

What a fucking mess.

You hate that it’s gotten to this point. Your fear about telling Thomas and it going downhill has come true, and knowing that makes you even more emotional.

“Tommy… I…” You say sotto voce, on the edge of tears as you slowly reach for him, but he puts a hand up stopping you from moving any further. He turns his face so you can’t see his expression.

“Don’t, Y/N.” Thomas’ voice is firm, but it breaks slightly when he says your name. “Just don’t.” He whispers.

You watch him and he struggles to keep himself together. You hate that you’ve done this to him, that you’re making him feel this way… you hate that you’ve caused this.

“I’m gonna go…” You voice (barely above a whisper) after a long silent pause, not trusting your normal voice due to the shaky deep breaths that begin to rack your body. You’re on the verge of breaking down.

Thomas nods. “I think you should.”

And that breaks your heart.

You feel weird leaving like this, gross even. You don’t want to leave things off like they are. You don’t want to leave things unresolved and you don’t want to leave with Thomas still angry at you. Still, though, you grab all your things and head to the doorway of his room.

Pausing to look back at him, you open your mouth to say something, but hesitate. Deciding against it, you turn to open the door and leave without another word.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You call Maria as soon as you get to your car. She helps you keep your composure as you drive to her house, keeping you company via phone. You make sure to send your family a quick text of your whereabouts and that you plan to spend the night at Maria’s place.

As soon as you arrive in her bedroom and drop your bag to the ground, you break down and begin to sob, crashing into the welcoming arms of your best friend. You cry until you can’t anymore, and Maria is there for you the entire time hugging you and easing you through it.

She stays there, quiet and still, allowing you to let out all of your emotions. You don’t tell her the details about what happened until after you have no tears left to cry.

“Don’t be mad at T, please, none of this is his fault.” You sniffle, wiping at your nose with a tissue Maria gave you. “It’s all mine.”

“Y/N, don’t blame yourself for all this. You just want what’s best for the both of you in the long run. If he doesn’t understand that, then he’s just not seeing the whole picture.”

“I just hate arguing with him, Maria.” You say weakly, wiping at your face to dry your tears. “This is our first fight and I hate how I feel right now. I don’t want things to end on bad terms. How am I supposed to get over this feeling once we… if we break up before college?”

“You don’t have to end things on bad terms, Y/N.” Maria says softly. “You both need to be on the same page about this. If you both make a plan and sort things out, then maybe you can leave things on a positive note. Not as a goodbye, but as a see you later, you know? And if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. You’ll meet again one day and you can pick up where you left off. But if it’s not, then at least you guys can cherish what you had when you were just two kids in high school who didn’t know any better and made the most of their teenage years.”

You nod slowly. She does have a point, and this is all what you were thinking when you had even brought up the thought of breaking up after graduation.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“It’s my best friend superpower. I can’t help it.” She shrugs, making you laugh, even if it was only a half-hearted one. “Seriously, though. You two need to have an honest conversation with one another.”

You sigh, wiping the rest of your drying tears away with the tissue. “I think we both could use some space right now, though. I’m going to wait until Monday.”

Maria nods. “Monday. But you have to talk to him. You can’t chicken out. I know you, Y/N.”

“Sometimes a little too well…”

“All for the best.” She grins.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

After a long and lonely weekend, Monday finally comes and you make sure to wake up earlier than usual in order to make it to school in time for when Thomas comes out of his physical therapy session with his track trainer.

You haven’t called, texted, or seen each other since Friday night and the guilt and heaviness from what happened still weighs on your chest despite the reassuring words from Maria.

Patiently and nervously, you wait outside the boys’ locker room like you have countless times before, only this time, things feel much different. The anticipation lingers in the air surrounding you and you feel the stress push at your shoulders until the door finally opens and Thomas walks out.

After over a year of dating, you still get butterflies at the sight of him even though he’s just wearing simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

As he shrugs on his jean jacket and backpack, he glances up through a few stray curls that fall down in front of his eyes. His eyes flicker to you as he walks in your direction before he rips them away quickly.

“T, hey how was…?” You try to speak to him, but he just continues to walk past you.

You watch him as he goes on like nothing, completely disregarding your presence.

“You’re still mad…” You trail off, falling into step with him and his pace doesn’t falter.

He doesn’t say a word.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t wanna see me right now, but please hear me out.”

Still nothing.

You know he’s still upset; he only gets quiet when he has a lot on his mind or he’s going through something. Taking in a deep breath, you speed up so that you can get in front of him.

“Thomas, hey, stop.” You say, putting a hand on his chest. You know that if he really wants to charge past you he can, but instead he stays there, halted by your touch. He looks down at you, his face nearing yours, and your eyes plead with his. “Please.” You whisper, your fingers curling into his black shirt to hold him there (or maybe it’s more of a way to ground yourself).

Thomas’ detached gaze lingers on your face and as your eyes search his, you note just how devoid of energy he looks.

“I just want to talk. I…” You watch him as he breaks your gaze to look at the ground. “I know I fucked up; I said some things I shouldn’t have. Just please let me make it up to you. I need you, T. I want to fix this while we still can.”

You sneak a glance around you to see that you’ve attracted some attention from your fellow classmates who are unapologetically staring. Do they know about you and Thomas’ fight? How could they possibly know? You two are hardly making a scene, but then again… people are vultures who will perk up at even the slightest bit of drama.

“Can we go somewhere private? Please? Just the two of us.”

Thomas licks his lips as he looks around, then back at you lazily. “Can this wait? We have class in six minutes, you know.”

“Let’s skip.” You say, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “This is more important than class today, okay? How about we go to that diner down the street?”

“It’s a little too early for a milkshake and fries, isn’t it?”

“They have eggs and waffles, too.” You say, your eyes pleading him to accept your offer. “Please? I know you love breakfast.”

He’s quiet for a few more minutes and you wait in anticipation for his answer. Just when you get your hopes down and think he’s going to reject you, he speaks up.

“Okay.” He responds finally. “But only because I really don’t want to watch boring presentations about the social cognitive theory in my Psych class…”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s good enough for me, T.”

“Bribin’ me with breakfast. You know that shit’s my weakness…” He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if he’d meant for you to hear that, but either way it makes a hint of a grin form on your lips.

“Come on, I’ll drive.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you get to the diner, it’s fairly empty except for an elderly couple at a booth and a man at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air and enters your nostrils as you breathe in.

A waitress greets you when you two slide into a booth, sitting across from each other. She hands you both menus and gets your drink orders before she’s off.

Silence fills the air between you as you both look over your menus. Thomas doesn’t say anything and it feels weird, suddenly reminding you of why you’re here in the first place. While from an outside perspective it may look like a normal outing between you two, you can feel the lingering tension in the air that’s leftover from Friday night. Unspoken feelings and unresolved problems still remain.

You sneak a glance at him over your menu only to find him already staring back at you. As soon as your eyes meet, he looks away.

“I feel really bad about Friday.” You finally break the silence, your voice small. Wanting nothing more than to let him know how you feel, you try to catch his gaze. When his brown eyes finally meet yours, you continue. “I hate the way we left things…”

“Me too.” He finally says softly. You two stare at each other for a few more seconds and Thomas opens his mouth to continue. “I…”

Then, the waitress comes back with a couple water cups and two black coffees, interrupting whatever it was that Thomas was about to say. You and Thomas direct your attention to her with fake smiles as she asks for your orders.

After she takes your menus and leaves, you let out a sigh as you look down at your fidgeting hands.

“Listen, T…” You begin, regret and guilt evident in your voice. You make sure to look up and meet his gaze one more time before you continue. “I'm sorry for lying to you and your family — I should have told you the day I found out, but I was too afraid of losing what we have. And I'm sorry for fucking up your day when we were supposed to be celebrating instead.”

You stop to take in a shaky deep breath, looking down at your hands once again. “I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I was doubting our relationship or… or if I made you feel like I didn’t… like you weren’t…” Struggling to find the right way to express how sorry you are, your tone gets more and more emotional as you stumble over your words.

Thomas saves you from your struggle, however, as his hand reaches across the table to cover yours, causing you to look up at him with surprise. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“What?” You voice breathlessly. “I… I thought you were still mad. It shouldn’t be that easy. Why are you…?”

He shrugs slowly. “Because you’re not entirely at fault… and as much as I want to stay angry, I can’t stand seein’ you in distress like this.”

You purse your lips and squeeze his hand in yours. “I’m still really sorry, T. I want you to know that. I said some things I regret and…”

“I know you are. Especially after seeing you try to fix things today by not takin’ no for an answer earlier. We both said some things we regret and it’s okay, Y/N. Really.” His voice is soft as he responds. “I’m sorry for yellin’ and not fully listenin’ to what you were sayin’. And for bein’ kind of a dick to you earlier when I ignored you. I was in denial. I just felt like you were givin’ up on us too quickly and I… I don’t wanna mess up what we have. I really don’t.”

Your eyes soften at his words. “I know. Me neither.”

You both are quiet for a few seconds as you both struggle to find a way to address the elephant in the room.

Luckily, you both get interrupted by the waitress again who comes back with your orders. You let go of each other’s hand when your plates are placed in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight of your food, and you thank your waitress before she leaves again, telling you to let her know if you need anything else.

A comfortable silence falls in the space between you and Thomas, and though you feel that the tension from Friday night has now dissipated, the stress of the upcoming conversation still sits on your shoulders.

Surprisingly, Thomas is the one who initiates it.

“So…” He starts after chasing a mouthful of pancakes with a sip of water. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be comin’ back to town on holiday breaks?”

You cringe at the bluntness of the question. “What made you assume that?”

He shrugs, chewing his food before swallowing. “Just the way you were so helpless with your options. Thinking back to it, I figure that you probably wouldn’t have jumped to the possibility of breaking up unless you’d already thought things through somewhat.”

Very observant of him.

You nod before letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. My family’s planning on moving to Miami once I move out. Apparently they’re tired of the cold weather and wanted to wait to move until I graduated high school. They let me know when I told them the news.”

“Erik, too?”

“He’s staying in Philly until he graduates next Spring.”

“Well, that sucks.” He says, picking at the leftovers on his plate.

“Yeah.” You reply softly. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Thomas. I thought the answer was clear, but now I’m not so sure.”

He sighs, putting his fork down before looking up at you. “I think I do.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head in confusion.

Thom sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Well, for starters, you’re always right, let me just put that out there.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Well, for this instance, at least.” He says simply before he continues. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we’ve got options here.”

“Yes we do, you said it yourself, T.”

“We don’t, Y/N, you were right. I didn’t wanna believe it before but now, I don’t think I have a choice.” He says, holding your gaze firmly. “The two of us going to the same school is out of the picture. Especially with application deadlines already being passed - I checked and I don’t know what I was thinking on Friday. And with us not going to be able to see each other even on holiday breaks… I don’t think that leaves anythin’ else on the table.”

“Thomas, really, you don’t have to do this. Don’t let me pressure you into something you don’t wanna do. Like you said, a relationship’s a two way street. We can work something out. I don’t know what, but we’ll try something else.”

“You’re not pressuring me, Y/N. What would that ‘something else’ be? Long distance? The chances of us visiting each other are slim, especially since I’ll be stuck at UVA for the majority of summer break for training camp. Especially since you’ll be in California and especially since you have no incentive to come back to town after you graduate.”

“You’re my incentive, T.”

He licks his lips and lets out a small laugh. “Baby, don’t fight me on this; you wanted this. Why the shift?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You say, voice quiet and close to tears.

Thomas reaches out across the table for your hand again. You lace your fingers with his and hold tightly. “I know. I don’t want to lose you either, but you were right, sweetheart. Seeing each other once a year isn’t good enough, let’s be real. I think we’d be hurting more than we'd be happy.”

You let out a long, deep sigh, squeezing his hand. He’s absolutely right and you knew this when you started this conversation on Friday — doesn’t mean that you don’t want to avoid it, though.

“We… we should…” He hesitates to continue the sentence. “We— God, why is this so hard?”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, T.”

He takes a deep breath before the words finally come out. “We should break up. This summer.”

It sounds foreign coming out of his mouth and his change in viewpoint surprises you still, even after talking it through with him.

“I don’t wanna be your shackle, Y/N.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I want you to do great things without worryin’ about me. Just like you were sayin’ on Friday. And I don’t wanna risk getting to a point where we grow too distant we lose all hope.”

Your eyes tear up a little bit and you reach up to wipe at your eyes with your free hand.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you off easy, missy.” Thomas looks at you pointedly, his voice wavering slightly. He lets out a small bittersweet laugh before he continues. “I’m gonna consider this more of a ‘see you later’ than a ‘goodbye forever’ kinda thing. At some point, I don’t know or care when, we’ll continue where we left off. Mark my words.”

You laugh, wiping away a stray tear. You’ve definitely heard those words before. “Have you been talking to Maria lately?”

He gives you a confused look. “No, not since we went on that double date with her and Ellie like two weeks ago, why?”

“She said a similar thing to me when I vented to her this weekend.”

“Really? Oh. I thought I was clever for that one.”

“You were.” You smile, rubbing small circles on the top of his hand.

A comfortable silence settles. The waitress comes back with the check and you give her your card against Thomas’ protests. It’s not long before she comes back and wishes that you both have a good rest of your day.

“This is gonna fucking suck.” Thomas suddenly says bluntly.

“Yeah, it is.” You sigh. “But you know what? We’re gonna make the most of the next three months. We’ll laugh together, we’ll cry together, we’ll enjoy the good times, and when the time comes… we won’t look back. Then, maybe one day, when I’m an engineer and you’re in the NFL… we’ll meet again.”

He sends you a watery smile, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart.”

You reciprocate his smile as a small silence stretches in between you two.

Thomas’ eyes fall onto his untouched (and probably now cold) coffee and with his free hand he reaches for the cream. You take that as a sign to let his hand go to let him tend to his glorified bean water, but as you try to withdraw your fingers from his, he just holds on tighter.

“Um, excuse me? What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, glancing at you like you just committed a sin.

“Don’t you need to pour creamer?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the big deal is. “I don’t want you to spill it.”

“Girl, I can pour creamer with one hand, thank you very much.” And there’s the Thomas you know and love, not that he was ever absent in the first place, but it’s good to see him messing around again. “Let me hold your hand in peace because God knows how many more times I’ll get to do it. I gotta savor it.”

“Stoppp.” You whine, drawing the word out. “This is how you’re gonna act until graduation, isn’t it?”

“You complainin’, sweetheart?” He fake pouts as he carefully pours the cream in his coffee and stirs with a spoon. “I thought you loved me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know I love your dramatic ass.”

“Mhm. In more ways than one.” Thomas hums before he takes a sip of his coffee. He cringes when he realizes it’s cold and you laugh at his reaction.

“Ready to go yet?” You ask, amused.

He nods. “We’re not going back to class, though, are we? Because if that’s the case, then no.”

“What? Hell no. Who do you think I am?” You say as you both mutually let go of each other’s hand to get up from the booth.

“A goody-two-shoes, that’s what you are. Really, baby, I didn’t expect you to mention skipping class. That’s like… blasphemy for you.”

You shrug as he holds the front door open for you. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Thomas gives you a suggestive look and that causes you to smack his arm. “God, Thomas, not like that. Jesus.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh as you approach your car and he grabs you by the waist as he leans back against the driver’s door. He presses a kiss to your forehead, hugging you close to him. “Just messin’.”

You roll your eyes before you pull back to look him up and down.

“When’d you get this jacket? Haven’t seen you in it before.” You muse, bringing your hands up to grab the denim on each side of his collar.

“A week ago? Maybe two? This is my first time wearing it, though.” He answers before he smirks. “Why? You like it?”

“Yeah, you look good in denim.”

“Do I, now?” He cocks his head slightly, amused as your face drifts closer.

“Mhm. The jacket really suits you.” You hum, releasing the material with one of your hands to slide it up to his jaw. You give him a soft kiss on his lips before you pull back. “Might look better on the floor, though. I don’t know. We’ll have to try and find out.”

Thomas’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to turn the suggestive talk around on him. A smirk forms on his lips as he presses them to yours one more time.

“Your parents home?” He mumbles against you.

You pull away slightly to think about it for a second. “No, actually.”

“Well, then I guess we’re about to find out.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Over the next few months, you and Thomas keep the promise you gave to each other at the diner. You’ve stayed positive and lived in the moment and, to be honest, those three months have probably been the best three months of your life.

You and Thom are both making the most of your time, making sure to spend almost every weekend together.

You study together even though you don’t share any classes. Most of the time is spent doing homework in silence, but you still enjoy each other’s presence.

For spring break, you go on a trip to the beach with Thomas, Maria, Ellie, James, Aaron, and a few more mutual friends. The week is full of banter and lots of fun-filled memories that you’ll remember for many years to come. It’s definitely one of the many highlights of senior year.

Thomas, being his over-the-top self, asks you to prom by spelling ‘Prom?’ out with bouquets of roses on your front lawn. And as if that isn’t enough, you wake to the sound of a live orchestral quartet playing your favorite song. You groggily walk over to your window to see where the sound is coming from and you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend grinning up at you with his arms gesturing around him proudly.

Of course you say yes.

You would have said yes even if he had asked you casually — but what can you say… you’re a sucker for flowers and he knows it.

Prom night is an absolute blast. You feel like a stunner in your dress and Thomas looks unbelievably handsome in his fitted tux. You stay together the entire night, dancing, singing, laughing, and joking around with both your and his friends.

You almost lose track of the amount of date nights you have with Thomas. You have movie nights, some nights you go rollerskating, concerts, restaurants, hell, you even go paintballing together, which is something that neither of you had ever thought you’d get into.

But as June grows closer and closer, you can’t help but feel that heaviness settle back into your chest. You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought about backing out of this agreement the two of you have. In fact, you’ve spent countless nights lying wide awake (sometimes right next to Thomas), trying to figure out how things would go if you decide to stay together.

With your parents deciding to move down to Miami a week after you graduate, it pushes the day you move out to LA earlier than you had originally intended, which makes the idea of staying together seem next to impossible. Your mother says that it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get to know the LA area before classes start in August.

This causes you and Thomas to have a more in-depth conversation about the plan and it ends with you two deciding to break it off a week before your big move. Both of you are in agreement that it would be best for the both of you, so that you have some time to recover. You figure it will be easier that way.

So, when the time comes to start packing your things for your move to California (and your parents’ move to Florida), you get stressed out. You notice that Thomas’ and your enthusiasm/positivity starts to fade as the date of graduation creeps closer and closer.

Which brings you to the present.

On the day of graduation, reality finally hits you. Because not only are you recognizing the fact that you’re leaving the love of your life in eight days to go to school in Cali, you’re also leaving Maria who has been a constant in your life since elementary school.

Maria plans to stay in town and go to community college to knock out all her general education classes before she transfers to a four-year university. Luckily, her girlfriend Ellie has the same idea, so they’ll be taking the same path after high school.

At least they will be together.

Unlike you and Thom, who are currently posing for a photo together for his and your parents who stand behind their phones grinning and teary eyed. You both give your best smiles to the cameras, trying to preserve the memory as best as possible without breaking.

Surprisingly, you and Thomas have stayed strong despite the impending suspension of your relationship that lingers in the atmosphere between you. Although teary eyed because you are saying goodbye to a lot of friends and faculty you’ve gotten to know over the years, you and Thomas don’t cry on graduation day. You don’t cry during the ceremony, you don’t cry during the many pictures you take that day, and you don’t cry at the large family dinner the Jefferson household holds for both you and Thomas.

You’ve both toughed it out both privately and in public. But graduation day eventually comes to its inevitable end, and the day after begins, marking your last day with Thomas Jefferson as your boyfriend.

The two of you make your last day special and have a day-long picnic in a nearby park. You wake up early and spend the entire day together, laughing, kissing, talking, and having as much fun as you can with the inevitable future looming over your heads. You both make the best of your time together, and that’s really all you can ask for.

As the day goes by, your time together begins to run out. And both of your composures begin to fade as each second passes.

While your curfew to be back home is 10pm, you and Thomas decide to hold onto each other a bit longer, so he drives you home and you sneak him into your room when your parents are too busy packing in the basement. They know that this is your last day with Thomas, so when you’re distracting them while Thomas makes his way up the stairs, you tell them that you’re going to sleep early. They comfort you for a few minutes but leave you to your own grief, knowing to respect your wish of ‘sleeping the night off.’

Little do they know, you and Thomas decide to have one more special night together.

When you finally make your way up to your bedroom, Thomas is sitting on your bed, glancing at the half-empty boxes in the corner of your room that need to be filled. Half of your room is packed up, but you’ve put off packing lately to spend time with Thom before you physically can’t anymore.

You let out a sniffle and you don’t realize that you are on the verge of crying until you see Thomas begin to break, too.

“Come here.” He murmurs, standing up from your bed to pull you into a tight hug.

You both cry into each other’s shoulders, fully letting yourselves go emotionally as you let out your pent up sadness. You’re getting each other’s clothing wet with tears, but neither of you care as you cling onto each other, not wanting to let go.

You don’t know how long you stay there or how long it takes until both of you calm down enough so that your tears fall silently.

“I told you this was gonna fucking suck.” Thomas mumbles against you, causing you to let out a laugh and sob at the same time.

You don’t respond, but after a few seconds, you pull away from his shoulder to look at him. Silence stretches between you before you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He echoes without hesitation before he leans his forehead against yours. You both bask in each other’s presence for a few more beats until Thomas speaks again, his words shaking. “Football won’t be the same without you, Y/N. I won’t be the same without you.”

“You played football for years before I became a part of your life. You’ll be fine, T.” You say quietly, though you are absolutely sure of your words. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and wipe some of his tears away. “You’re gonna move on and be great and show people what you’re capable of.”

Silence stretches between the two of you before you take a step away from him as you remember something. Thomas frowns at your sudden withdrawal, but you explain yourself as you both wipe at your faces to dry them as best as each of you can.

“That reminds me…” You say, digging into one of the open boxes in the corner of your room until you feel a familiar piece of fabric. You pull out Thomas’ purple hoodie — the one he gave to you the night you officially became a couple. Damn, it feels so long ago now, but it hasn’t even been two years. “Here. You should probably take this back.”

He lets out a small laugh and takes the purple fabric from you to examine it. He seems lost in thought, but after a few moments, he shakes his head and hands it back to you. “Nah. Keep it.”

When you don’t take it, his hand reaches out to one of yours and he wraps your fingers around the fabric. You try to protest, but he continues.

“Don’t want you forgettin’ about me, now, do we?” He chuckles dryly.

“I won’t forget you, Thomas.” Your voice sounds so sure of your words that Thomas has no choice but to believe you.

He swallows and looks down for a second before he glances back into your eyes. “I know.”

“You’re gonna forget about me, though.”

Thomas shakes his head and his eyebrows scrunch together and he looks like he’s about to break again before he reaches out to pull you close.

“Never.” He mumbles into your hair before he pulls back. “Hey, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget you, Y/N Y/L/N. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

He brings his hands up to cup both sides of your face. His thumbs brush some fresh tears away before he continues to talk. “These eyes? Unforgettable. This beautiful face? Ingrained in my brain forever, sweetheart, I promise you that.” One of his thumbs lightly brushes over your lips. “Don’t even get me started on these lips. I’ll miss them for sure.”

Thomas pauses for a second before his beautiful brown eyes gaze into yours, letting you know that he truly means his next words. “I’m never going to forget any part of you, Y/N.”

You stay there, gazing at one another with nothing but pure love and admiration. Without breaking eye contact, you gingerly put Thomas’ hoodie (which is apparently yours now) back in the box you removed it from. You reach up to pull Thomas’ lips down to yours passionately.

Thomas responds, instantly reciprocating the kiss with the same amount of emotion that you pour into it. He moves his hands from your cheeks to pull your body closer to him. Your hand digs into the material of his shirt and suddenly, you can’t get enough of each other. You both need more — to be closer — but neither of you rush anything. You take it slow and try to take in every little detail about each other.

As layer after layer of clothing comes off, you two savor the feeling of each other’s lips, bodies, and touch. Every soft moan, every sigh, every gasp, every kiss… each and every moment that you spend with each other is savored in one final heat-filled act of love.

Afterwards, you both lie in your bed under the blankets, Thomas’ arm around your naked body and your head on his bare chest. You cherish each other’s presence for one final time, basking in silence until Thomas finally breaks it, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You still sure about this, sweetheart?”

You are quiet for a few seconds before you answer, sotto voce. “Yeah, T.” You listen to his steady heartbeat as you bring your hand up to rest on his torso. “You?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

A few seconds pass and you subconsciously trace little circles on his abdomen with your thumb. Thomas’ arm tightens around your waist as he pulls your closer.

“I’m sorry things have to end this way.” He mumbles against you, his deep voice reverberating throughout his chest.

“Don’t be.” You murmur, exhausted from the emotional toll this day has taken on you. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world — unless there’s a way where it doesn’t end with you and Thomas going your separate ways.

You shake your head at yourself for thinking so negatively. You promised each other something back at that diner.

“It’s not the end, T.” You speak out loud, shifting so that your head rests on the pillow and you’re face to face with Thomas. “You said it yourself before and now it’s my turn to say it: this is a ‘see you later,’ alright? So I better fucking see you later, or else.”

He laughs (oh, you’re gonna miss that laugh) and his hand slides up the curve of your hip to pull himself closer to you. “Back at ya, princess.”

You both sniffle, but you know that your time together, for the time being, at least, has come to an end — especially as both of you begin to drift off no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You whisper in Thomas’ warm embrace.

Thomas responds after he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to.”

So neither of you do.

And you both fall asleep, bodies entangled with one another, content to be in each other’s embrace one last time before you move away.

The next morning, Thomas wakes up before you do and he slowly untangles himself from you as he wills himself to stay strong. He dresses himself as quietly as he can before he presses one last kiss to your temple.

Then, he takes one last look at your sleeping form before he leaves, keeping his word to you and not giving either of you a chance to say your goodbyes.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week later, your heart beats frantically as you drop a box of things you plan on leaving behind against the wall outside of your room.

It’s minutes before you’re supposed to leave for the airport — you want to leave early in case something goes wrong and you get delayed. Sighing, you walk back into your empty room to check for any last things you may have missed packing into the many boxes that are already stashed into your parents’ car.

“Y/N?” You hear your brother call out from downstairs. “I think there’s someone waiting for you outside.”

Who could it be? You’ve already said your goodbyes to Maria earlier that day when she’d helped you finish packing.

Erik gives you a sad smile as you pass by and you give him a confused look.

“What? Who is it?” You ask, eyebrows raised. “You know we have to leave in a few, right?”

“You’ll see.” Erik says, causing you to sigh.

After determining that your final sweep (even though you’ve done it three times now) is done, you make your way past Erik and open the front door. When you make it onto your driveway, you’re shocked to see Thomas Jefferson standing there with a sheepish grin and his hands in his pockets, looking as handsome as ever.

“Thomas…” You trail off, surprised to see him after your last day together the week prior. “What are you doing here?”

Your boyfriend (well… ex now, technically) walks closer and takes his hands out of his pockets. You can see him fidgeting with his fingers as he speaks. “I uh…” He breathes out a nervous laugh before one of his hands reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

You watch him from a few feet away as he struggles to get his words out.

“Well, I… as your… not-boyfriend wanted to say goodbye.” He says softly, shifting his eyes to the ground briefly before looking back up to gaze into yours. “I changed my mind. Leaving without saying goodbye just gutted me and made me feel like we had unfinished business. I had to see you one more time, Y/N. I-I’m sorry.” Thomas’ voice is unstable as he apologizes and you feel tears well up in your eyes as he continues. “I know this breaks our agreement and everything, but I couldn’t just let you leave before—”

You cut him off by stalking forward to wrap him into a crushing hug — a hug the two of you desperately need at the moment. Thomas doesn’t waste a second before his arms encircle your waist to hold you just as tightly to him.

Even though you had spent the entire day with each other just a week prior, the need to see each other — to feel each other — one last time has consumed you both. You agree that waking up to an empty bed without saying a proper goodbye (even though it’s what you had initially wanted) had crushed you, and it had caused you to be an emotional wreck to the following two days.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, sniffling before letting out a bittersweet laugh. “I just made this so much more fucking difficult for us.”

“It’s okay.” You reciprocate his laugh as tears stream down your face. “It’s so worth it, T.”

A few minutes pass by as you hold each other close.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, T.” You say quietly. “So much.”

You’ve lost track of time and your mother is the one to finally bring you and Thomas back to reality.

“Y/N, we gotta go, honey…” Your mom speaks as softly as possible from her position at the front door, and you can see the guilt on her face as she watches her daughter’s heart break. “You’re gonna be late for your flight.”

You turn back to Thomas and give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You gave me the best year and eight months I could ever ask for… so thank you.”

You look up at him for a second before you sob and crash into his chest. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” He replies softly before he steels himself. “But you have a flight to catch. Which means you need to go.”

You give him one last kiss, it’s watery from both of your tears but neither of you care.

“Go be great.” He says when you pull back. “You deserve the world, Y/N.”

He holds your hand until the grip slips when you take a step towards the car.

“See you later, Thomas.”

He smiles through his tears before he replies. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You get in the car and a few seconds later, your mother pulls out of the driveway (apparently Erik and your father are going to drive separately). As the car drives away, Thomas waves from your driveway until you can’t see him anymore. You know that’s the last you’ll see of him for a while.

And maybe, just maybe, you regret leaving him behind.

But a voice lingers in the back of your mind that gives you some sort of relief:

If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.

#thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #daveed diggs imagine #high school au #hamilton fanfic #thomas jefferson fanfic #wideout #feel free to yell at me #but on the bright side #GET READY TO MEET NFL!THOM #what a man

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

killing me- 9

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : smut, drinking ,mention of weapons

words :: 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! ) @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @exfolitae @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424

@kafenetwork @neowritingsnet

K.M masterlist

K.M 8 next

note:: unedited! i’m a bit busy so i’ll try to edit it before sleep!

“yuta.”

“bake up.”

Yuta groaned at the foreign force shaking him repeatedly. He moved, crashing his face further into the sheets, swatting the alien hands away from himself.

“wake up you horse!” this time yuta heard the gurgling voice a bit more clearly. Someone was trying to disturb his sleep. Staying on his stomach and titling his half body to face the uninvited guest, he made out a face that matched johnnys. His face fell flat on the mattress again until he realised what or whom he has seen! He jolted upright, squatting, to face johnny.

“what are you doing here.” He mumbled with eyes still closed, stretching his arms on the sheets.

“it’s 1p.m!why you still sleeping dude?” johnny’s exasperated voice sounded too loud to yuta’s morning self. Or afternoon!

“It’s m-” a long yawn stretched his mouth into an oval shape, that he didn’t mind covering “its my house. I’ll do whatever I want but what are you even doing here?” he completed quietly.

“why are you still sleeping. You weren’t even drunk. Get up and tell me where is y/n!”

“so you are not here for me!” yuta pouted at johnny before throwing himself on the bed again, covering himself with sheets.

“what the fuck yuta! You are not a baby and tell me where is she? Did you even drive her back?” johnny asked sternly, removing his layer of protection.

“the only thing I can assure is that I wanna sleep more. And about your big fat crush! She certainly came back with me but she was crying so I won’t be surprised if she left already.” As soon as yuta’s almost inaudible words reached johnny’s ears, he jogged outside the room, checking the lock of your room. He sighed in relief at the secured lock. You didn’t leave and he was glad.

Johnny noticed your movements when you signed those papers. He was cursing at himself for not interfering but not like it’d have made any difference! The best he could do was to make sure you were fine at the end. Regardless of the fact that your phone was switched off, he was trying it continuously since yesterday night. Countless phone calls and messages but all were futile. His anger on taeyong was just fuelling by your ignorance.

Annoyingly, he fisted his hair before going for yuta’s room again.

“is she in university right now?” he asked yuta, who was looking like a dead body with an open mouth.

“bloody hell nakamoto! Wake up!” he shouted at him, this time the sheets were tossed on the floor.

“johnny babes, just track her. Don’t shout at me. I didn’t do anything this time.”

“you seriously ate your ethics yuta. I’m not needed there so I’m staying until she’s back.” Johnny declared, making his way outside on the couches.

“not needed my ass john suh. Ate my ethics! Says the one who’s seducing his own sister-in-law.” He only muttered before drifting back into paradise.

johnny just sat there in front of the t.v, mindlessly waiting for you, unknown guilt corroding his mind and heart.

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

Doyeon and mingi’s whispering felt like a hammer to your head. The incessant pounding was the result of some expensive alcohol and the stupid tears. If exams were not approaching in two weeks, you’d have stayed longer to sulk but their future was as important as yours and only one more week was left so you just sucked it up. Now you were eating the lunch brought by mingi while testing them for exam.

“civil laws suck.” Mingi exclaimed, hitting doyeon on the arm.

“no! your brain sucks.” Doyeon reiterated, poking his head with her pencil.

“wtf doyie! My brain is totally packed up to the brim. if you love it so much, then tell me the answer of question 6!” a smug smile made its way to mingi’s lips.

“what’s wrong with no.6 mingi?” you questioned, perplexed as there was no difficulty in the paper yet he was still looking here and there.

“umm. Non bis in idem! It’s not given anywhere. Right?” he hesitantly asked for he knew he was wrong, somewhere.

“what was the paper you wrote last time?” you tried not to unleash your anger on them, so you kept your voice as low as possible.

“double jeopardy!”

“and?”

“what the heck mingi! Didn’t you mention the legal maxim of dj?”

“maybe not!”

“what kind of law student forgets about legal maxims duffus! Non bis in idem means double jeopardy.” You reprimanded him tiredly, not in the mood to put up much fight with him.

“sorry” he said, head hung low.

“don’t be mingi. I won’t gain anything from this. you need to study for yourself. now complete this before I give you a subjective test. Double prep is always good. Hurry up!”

A collective musical groan leaves them both, as they tend to their paper again, you drowning yourself in your own books.

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

Johnny and yuta were engrossed in a football match when you entered the hallway. Upon noticing you, johnny sighed in disbelief, before making his way to you.

“why is your phone switched off?” he fumed at you, hands on his waist as you poured water for yourself.

“It wasn’t charged so I left it here.” he knew he wasn’t doing his utmost in containing his irritation and your casual tone just took him off guard.

“you jus- you should have charged it dammit. I was fucking worried that something happened to you and what kind of girl travels without a phone these days!” his hand ruined his already messy hair as he ranted, the reason of which was beyond your understanding.

“it’s not that big of an issue besides I’m not clearly out of reach right!” you scoffed at him, pointing to your arm where the bracelet was hidden, under the sleeves. You didn’t mean to sound rude at his concern but his position was no better .You had every right to be querulous!

“i-you don’t understand. i just wanted a reply from you. it’s the least I deserve! Or don’t i?” his voice went down as his face lost the previous stern expression.

“I saw my phone only this morning and I was getting late so didn’t bother!” you shrugged your shoulders at him, making your way for the room.

“where are you going?” his voice rose a bit as he held onto your arm.

“in my room!” you replied, matter of factly.

“yeah! I thought you were going to greet your dear husband!” he joked, tilting his head towards the couches where yuta sat previously but he was not there anymore.

“I don’t wanna talk johnny!” you said curtly, jerking your hand away. But he was quicker as he pulled you into him, backing you into a counter.

“just leav-

“no tell me what’s the matter with you. what have I even done?” his voice was barely above a whisper, meant only to be heard by you. the rise and fall in his speech was already shaking your resolution.

“nothing! just turned a normal student into a deadly underground member. But it’s nothing big so yeah!” you replied, mock evident in your words. As you tried to leave again, his hands caught your waist as he picked you up, stationing you on the counter. He secured you against his body, restricting your movements. His hard orbs found yours as he hands tightened around your waist, making you gulp in the process. You stared back with same intensity, as if reading his next step. He lowered his front, demanding eyes never leaving yours,

“this is the first and last time I’ll be explaining myself. I don’t know a shit about why he did that. But those papers won’t be used against you. I won’t let that happen. Ever. I promise that with my life. Just have some faith in me” He whispered. Besides it being the precise validation you sought, suspicion couldn’t be helped!

“and why would you do that. Do you also have some hidden agen-

his lips felt soft as they collided with yours with urgent need to shut you up. You froze, so did he. The only movement in your control was of your hands that were tightly gripped to the counter. The silence in the air being tense, his lips stayed still and contrary to yours, his eyes were completely shut. Johnny’s light breaths fanned your upper lip as his chest heaved up and down. Neither of you made any effort to further it nor any to pull apart. Few more seconds passed and he finally detached himself, the bodies still connected. Your lashes fluttered as he palmed your left cheek, speaking in a low husky whisper.

“I promise. Just believe me and when I say taeyong won’t hurt you, I mean it. With all my heart. Can you trust me on this please?”

He was insisting yet pleading and you merely nodded, lowering your head. His delicate fingers brushed the line formed between your brows, smiling softly.

“you have nothing to worry about. with unparalleled record that we have! You ain’t getting rid of me anytime soon. Yeah?”

His breathy laugh tingled your insides and something like awe transformed his face as he felt the warmness of your cheeks under his hand.

“by any chance, are you flustered?” your face went blank at his shameless comment when he was the very reason for your current state.

“n-no!” you pushed him hard while standing straight. He staggered a bit, giggling uncontrollably at you.

“lying suits you y/n. just like your soulmate jaehyun.” You scrunched your nose at the mention.

“don’t talk about him! He’s so annoying, i’m gonna hang him upside down someday o-or turn him into a stew!”

“and feed him to yuta!” he completed. You gawked at him for a moment before joining him in his laughing session.

“there is food?” yuta entered the kitchen, dimming the commotion.

“not for you!” you snarked.

“we have food y/n?” it was johnny this time. you had almost forgot about the sandwiches that were now probably rotting in your bag. As realisation dawned, you hurriedly retrieved your bag from counter, opening the plastics from the sandwiches with a last hope to save them.

“do you know that you don’t have to be ramsey to stuff cucumber and tomatoes in a bread?” johnny shifted, taking the packages to heat them up.

“I was out of bread. So I just took the easy route.”

“lame excuse! Work better!”

“not everyone got time john!”

You strolled for your room, passing yuta in the way, totally missing the frown and cute smile on yuta and johnny respectively. Though yuta’s internals were screaming at him to open his shitty mouth, his main focus was on his empty stomach that was growling like never before.

“pass me one john!” he whisper yelled to johnny, purposely stretching the last word to satisfy himself.

“no! it’s her lunch or snack or whatever it is.” He warned, hiding the oven with his front.

“oh so you have turned a part time servant for her!” he spewed, crossing his arms against his chest.

“no dude. She’s actual-

he was about to tell yuta but he halted his train of words for he was not in the place to tell any of your secrets to anyone , especially yuta.

“she’s what? Your girlfriend?”

“I swear I’m gonna fry you someday!”

“whatever. Now give me a sandwich before she comes out. Hurry up!” yuta looked over johnny’s shoulders to count the stacked portion in the device.

“one, two-

“three. They are just three yuta! Fuck off.” Johnny knew throwing abuses wouldn’t work but hitting him with his shoulder wasn’t either! He glanced at yuta and he seriously looked miserable. Hungry miserable!

“come on-

“are you done john?” your voice echoed from the hall as you approached wearing your famous tank top and cotton shorts. Yuta cursed under his breath, opening the fridge to get himself something.

“here” johnny handed you the plate. He hit yuta’s arm to grab his attention who was practically trying to sit in the fridge.

“renjun and jaemin are cooking their special ramyeon. We’ll eat there, come on!”

“huh!” he excitedly passed johnny to pick his things up.

With yuta out of sight, his focus shifted again on you. “don’t you get sick after eating takeouts?”

“yup I do! My gut is not the healthiest one in the world. But I’ve fewer options and I do check their health certificates so no need to worry.” Your humorous reply didn’t get more than a shit face from him. He leaned again causing you to take a step backwards.

“your hair!” He pointed and you rolled your eyes like you’d see what was happening up there.

“what my hair?”

“umm. Nothing kiddo!” he said before ruffling your hair.

“aah. I’m not a kid johnny!” you shouted at him though he was just standing by your shoulder.

“oh yes you are!” he pouted dramatically and ran but not forgetting to throw a flying kiss your way. “charge your phone, I’ll call again.”

“eww!” you snapped your head to catch yuta standing behind, making faces at johnny who was standing at the front of hallway.

“oh come on you shit.”

At johnny’s comment , yuta just followed and you totally missed the way he scoffed at both of you.

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

You were truly jumbled by johnny’s actions, innocent yet calculated. You had maintained your calm but he was aware that you were not blind towards his growing attraction. why didn’t you push him away! What was he aiming at? Questions, questions! From the very first day, all you have are questions with no concrete answers.

But Johnny was not the sole occupier of your worries, taeyong held a significant part of it. If what johnny said was true, if his intentions were not so malafide then he’d easily have skipped it. Despite johnny’s assurance, you couldn’t afford trusting him anymore. Not like you could protect yourself from losing anything but your walls would always be enclosed for him.

Your wandering mind was pulled back into reality by a message from your classmate. The date of thesis topic submission was moved to an earlier one, a week earlier to be specific. In reality, you were all starting it a few months earlier just so the pressure could be minimised but it instead felt like a strategy for your doom. You all were supposed to submit the topic and a little introduction even before the qualification exam! And obviously you were behind the so called ahead-of-time schedule. You could have wrote a ph.d worthy book on mafia and their ploys but sadly criminal law was not the option available for it. So that’s how you ended up in the small balcony, sitting on the cold floor, enjoying the evening cool breeze. Search results on both naver and google had varied from “50 best topics of dissertation in international law” to “how to know what is my area of interest?” but every try had gone to a blank page.

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

By late evening, you got bored of sitting in the balcony and room, so you decided to study with a change of setting and the only place available apart from your room was the hall. After computing various possibilities, you dragged the single seater towards the hall windows and angling the book on the window still, a much comfy makeshift study space was ready. With the newfound determination to complete the task at hand, your eyes browsed every means of information to stumble upon anything you missed earlier, ignoring the blue skies switching to the darker ones.

***********

Yuta noticed the way he was experiencing more fatigue as the days passed by. He never trained this much until he was suspended. He looked forward for it to end so he could feel the same thrill again but two weeks wouldn’t just pass in a blink! He claimed the basement as his new home trying to ignore the activities transpiring upstairs. The desire to stay with his dear roommate jungwoo was irrepressible but his ego didn’t allow him to give in so easily. He wanted to show his anger to taeyong and that was the only reason he found himself coming back to the new home more often.

He languidly passed the kitchen to use the washroom. Only when he was about to enter his room, he noticed the lightening in the kitchen and living room. He groaned at the thought of your imprudent habit of multiplying the electricity bill which eventually he had to pay! Or maybe you were just trying to instigate him! When he was about to put out the lights, he spotted the sofa and a pair of legs perched on the widow still. He took light steps to reach your sleeping figure and suddenly he felt his annoyance melting into astonishment. Your face was covered with the open, visibly heavy hardcover book whilst your half body was on the seat and half in the air with feet placed on the window still for balance that was clearly very very comfortable place for napping at midnight. unconsciously, his hand extended for the book and as he picked it up, you stirred. Panic took over him as he lost the hold leading the book to fell on your face instead. He ducked, cupping his mouth with both hands to stifle the laugh that was about to escape. Luckily you were dead to the world. Hearing no movement, he crawled for the room , getting up only when he was at a safe distance. Without wasting another moment, he did what he was there for in the first place and went to sleep, with a thumping heart that was probably due to the initial dread he felt or that’s what he thought!

**********

The bus stop being far away, you began the long trudge for neos’ house. Taeil had requested your presence two days ago , but being too busy with studying on the first few days of the week ,it was delayed. You’d have never accepted the offer if it was taeyong but taeil suggested you to take your time even though what he wanted to ask or said was important. His readiness to prioritise your convenience warmed you and it were the emotions of the moment that you agreed to him. And now the heat was burning your exposed legs and you were cursing his sweet tongue.

You knocked on the opened door to announce your arrival despite the fact that the main door had automatically detected you to lead you in. you stood there like a statue, moving your neck like an owl, waiting for an invitation but nothing. you banged it again only to hear someone’s cursing from inside.

“who the fuck knocks when it’s op-

A screeched scream met your ears as a man came into your sight. He abruptly started bowing, apologising profusely.

“I’m so sorry noona. I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. I-

“hey, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even hear you in the first place.” You lied, saving him the mortification.

“can I come in?”

“this is your own place. You don’t need to ask or knock noona!” you entered as he gestured you to sit.

“can you call tae-

But before you could say it, he ran inside. You didn’t know or remembered his name but his face looked familiar. Maybe he was sicheng or hyuck or someone else cause you were sure you had met hyuck before!

“I was making coffee for taeil hyung. But he’s late so it’s yours now!” he exclaimed with his eye smile. it was cute and friendly.

“what was your name again?” you asked smiling back at him, noticing the little red on his neck.

“jeno.” He immediately settled on a seat, his focus fixed on you. “I’m making snacks. Do you wanna join?”

You chuckled at his innocent suggestion, “If you meant joining for eating, then I’m all in but if you want my help in actual process, then you’d die hungry today!”

“I’m aware of that but you are never late to learn anything right!”

“wow. Your enthusiasm is admirable but I don’t wanna burn your kitchen.” Your eyes were blessed with another series of his eye smile. it was contagious.

“you are here!” you saw taeil sprinting towards you.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in the office.” His words came out breathy as he was still panting from the jog.

“no worries but I don’t have much time. I have to study for exams.”

“yes, studying is important.” He nodded before requesting jeno to get him the coffee and water, to which the boy grumpily complied.

“why the fuck is air con off! I’m gonna roast!” He whined and got up again to close the front door.

“now. I’ve two things to tell you or rather order you. you wanna eat first orr-

“no I’m fine really. Just tell me what taeyong ordered this time!” you had no doubt that it was taeyong’s doing.

“forget about that shit. Here, veto power is mine. JENO, STOP MELTING THE ICE AND GIVE ME SOME WATER!” he screamed at jeno who came out hurriedly with both water and coffee.

Jeno took a seat beside taeil but his one glare made him go back. Sighing in relief after quenching his thirst, he continued in a polite voice. “yuta told me about the card. Why didn’t you take it?”

“because I don’t want his money. I’m good with what I have. Besides every transaction related to him would lead me in trouble so why take the risk!” you sounded harsher than you intended but it wasn’t in your control anymore. Mention yuta and you’ll obviously bite!

“the account is already open. Yuta’s gonna transfer same amount of money every month so why don’t spend his money or better, give him a heart attack by paying everything with the card. He’s gonna pay and I promise, he has no say in this so he won’t even scold you!” he sounded quite cheerful which clearly indicated that none of them understood your language.

“no thanks taeil. staying away from his shadow is much safer.”

“shadow runs with the man y/n.”

“the man himself avoids me like a plague so it’s a win win here.”

“what you see is present. Nobody can ever escape a tomorrow! You are evading it today, but one day you’ll eventually face it.”

“I don’t speak quotes!”

“simple! You both collide only to cause harm to each other. For how long do you think this can work. You’ll get tired and I suppose he’d too. when you’ll stop to rest, you’d find him there but at that time you won’t have enough energy to fight off anymore. Placebo is deadly y/n!”

You absorbed his vague statement full of philosophy but your mind couldn’t harmonise with what he meant!

“honestly, I stopped hearing the moment you mentioned yuta so can we continue!”

“yeah sure. Take the card, keep it for emergencies and I’m not taking no anymore. You aren’t hearing me so I’m doing the same. and secondly, can you defend yourself?”

“defend from who exactly?”

“drunken bastards, thieves, goons or whoever comes at you with a knife!” you were puzzled at the sudden mention.

“my personality repels violence and I’ve two strong best friends.” You declared the obvious. The only drunkards you met were outside the clubs and you never went alone so the thought never crossed your mind.

“first is a lie and second is insignificant here. I need you to learn some basics so you won’t need anyone else or just to hold until help comes.”

“what the! Are you actually recruiting me or something? I don’t wanna be a party in your gang wars.” you announced, now clearly understanding what he meant in the first place.

“I’m not telling you to fight with us. You don’t have an ounce of brain do you? it’s for your own safety.”

“safety from what? I live in a rich and peaceful neighbourhood, my dear husband is a corporate of first class, I myself never even go for a simple stroll in a park then who would I even fight?”

“here ,we all are used to the danger that we face everyday. Each and every man you see here is able to dodge anything that comes their way but you.are.not. Just because they are acting like school kids with no care in life doesn’t mean they are any safer. Jeno was making coffee a few minutes ago but after dinner, he’d be going for protection fee collection with others. If shit goes down, you might not even see him again but we won’t let that happen in the first place. It’s not same with you though. god forbid if you attract the attention of wrong people for all the reasons you stated, then how are we going to help you. even if you press the bracelet , it’d take us some time to get there. till then what would you do? You can’t even probably run for more than a mile! can you?”

You just shook your head at him, too baffled to form any words.

“do you devote any time to exercise?”

“I walk enough I guess and some planks when my stomach is out too much.”

“you are no better than these boys seriously.” She rolled his eyes at your statement.

“but despite the exercise or whatever, my strength is nothing against jeno or johhny. I’ll never b-

“if you fail in strength , atleast you can be swift. Or better you can learn to handle a gun or a knife. When do you get free?”

So, that’s why he called you!

“I don’t have a minute to spare for the next 15 days. Prep and exams are more important for me.”

“no worries. We can start after that. But don’t remove the bracelet band under any condition. Some rival mafia has hired a contract killer for you. so run fast if you notice someone following you, press it and we’ll be there. till then just hang on.” Nervousness got hold of your senses as you heard his warning.

“you are fucking kidding right! was I being followe-

“yes, I’m kidding.” he chuckled dryly. “You should see your face. If it was outside the parameters of the room, you’d have passed out already. Panic only leads to death and I don’t want you to die. so do it just for my peace of mind.” You released the breath you were holding till now, feeling relaxed again.

You just nodded at his words. He sounded like some motivational speaker luring you into his lifetime guarantee program but you knew he was right somewhere. you couldn’t depend on the boys to save you from creeps for whole life.

he was good at reading minds, you thought but despite that you wanted to pour the coffee on his head for the heart attack he’d gave you a minute ago.

“it’s risk free and beneficial. What you say?”

“ok. but I don’t wanna spar with the 6 feet ones. I’ll rather learn from you.” it was your turn to cackle!

“we’ll see about that.” He rolled his eyes to the back at your obvious attempt of poking fun at his short stature

JENO, I DIDN’T ASK FOR A COLD COFFEE. MAKE ME A NEW ONE.”

********

Meeting with taeil had benefitted you in every way. The most useful presently was the topic of the thesis he randomly suggested you. “ effect and consequences of veto power in relation to international peace and human rights”. even mr. kwang, your thesis mentor liked it as it was almost near original. Now you were just left with exams that were just a week away. Fortune was playing in your favour as yuta had been missing from past few days that saved you some extra energy and headaches that you got with his repulsive energy towards you. then there was your newfound love for the sofa that you had permanently dragged by the windows. It helped a lot in relaxing and studying and you ended up sleeping on it, nearly getting used to the cramped neck.

Unbeknownst to you, he did come back, daily. But you were just so occupied that you never noticed the slight shuffling in the midnight. it went on for days until you woke up with a blanket covering your bare legs, evidently not yours!

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

How to start the finals? By getting wasted? No. certainly not. But birthdays are important, sometimes more than those stupid grades!

The venue for yeong’s b’day celebration was a night club, as expected from yugyeom! He need no reason to get drunk and when his s/o was herself cutting the chains, then it’s the finest deal one could get!

Loaded with university students, the party at the first floor was thundering. The hoots and roars of slightly drunk adults became deafening as soon as the cake was consumed.

“why your classmates are so fucking loud” you screamed in yeong’s ear. You both were seated at the corner on leather seats, drinking away the reality.

“with your dolphin voice, you are in no place to judge them bitch!”

“lets blame this on your drunkard mumbo jumbo!” she jumped in joy at your lame attempt, alcohol speaking out for you.

“btw where’s your boyfriend?” she questioned leaning into your ear.

“who?” you wondered who she was referring to.

“wonwoo! Who else dumbo. His whole army was invited by gyeom but I haven’t seen him yet!”

You just shrugged in response, not wanting to face him. The farther, the better. His possessiveness only elevated your fears. Now that you were bound on taeyong’s mercy, wonwoo would be calling for a danger by being with you, especially when you were incapable of returning his love.

But fate had some cruel plans stored for you. when you were ordering another drink, strong hands gripped your waist. Though beyond tipsy, the moment you touched the protective hold, you knew it was wonwoo. It was always him afterall.

“you could burn me while wearing white and I’d say thank you baby” He whispered, nibbling on your ear, shivers running down to your bare thighs at the sudden action. everyone knew how much you loved white and that’s why yeong had designed this short white satin dress which just screamed “you” and barely left anything to the imagination of the viewer. “and nothing turns me on more than your covered arms.” He continued as his fingers slowly traced the collarbones down to the cleavage, your drunken self melting into his chest. His hands worked swiftly and he guided you into a secluded part to drown the excessive noise. Your back hit a wall as his nose brushed against yours, his slender fingers siding your sling bag to hook at your hips. He bent into your lips, love filled kisses slowly smoothening into hungry ones. The taste he left on yours was of the infamous vodka that he sure had consumed in plenty of amount ,leading him to you. the pledge to keep yourself away from him broke down in figures as he rolled his hips into yours, lips syncing with the movements. His grip bruised your body, hunger lowering from lips to the bare neck. Throwing your head back, savouring his touch, you clutched his shoulders for some control. Scheduled moans became more filthy as his one hand gripped your thigh in a try to hike up your dress. He didn’t do much work as it was already climbing up your hips. A Single move and his fingers graced against your core, tingling sensation burning your whole body. The open mouthed kisses left marks on your cleavage and neck as he fingers fucked you mercilessly.

“I missed you so much baby.” His wavering yet soft tone met your ears but everything seemed hazy as he drove in and out of you. you felt euphoria in your stomach hitting you once again as he rambled on. “ don’t ever leave me again. you are my only lu-luxury. Don’t you ever dare snatch away the only hope I have! I love you. i fucking love you!” his sped up his actions under the dress but before he could provide you the final pleasure, you came back to the reality he had divorced you from. you didn’t love him and never would. To his disbelief, you separated yourself from his body, him staggering back with the push.

“wha-

“I don’t love you woo. This-

Your hands filled the space between you two.

“this was never about love. We need to stop. I don’t love you woo. And don’t expect anything better from me. We are over. This is over.”

Your drunken slurs made evident that though you were loaded, the senses were still intact somehow.

“no y/n. don’t do this to me. I’ll wait more if you want. A lifetime if you say. But don’t say you are done with us. I’d die without you.” his words rang like a bell as you attempted to corrected the panties and dress, waving slightly.

You jumped away from him as his words got registered in your head. Ignoring him completely, you turned to enter the blast again but his strong hold on your arm stopped you. you squirmed under him, requesting him to let you go but his confession never halted.

“let go of her wonwoo!” you circled to see jungkook standing there , anger clear in his eyes. “I am not gonna repeat.” Jungkook was indeed dangerous when he was boiling.

“why was he enough and NOT ME!” you shuddered at the raise in his voice as he jerked you away. Timely, jungkook caught you and instructed you to go inside to wait for him. And you complied but not completely.

you were hot, bothered, angry and helpless at the same time so you did what you felt like. It felt like eternity when jungkook found you gulping some shorts in the bar. His brain went haywire for he realised you would’ve reached your peak by now. He cautiously approached you, checking the level of warmness on your cheeks. You were gone and so was he.

“what did you do with woo?” you asked him in the delightfully lovable voice that he found nothing but scary. You acting cute meant it was end of the life for anyone who would witness it. He had tried to record you a few times before in the said condition but it never ended up well with the screen of his phone meeting your wrath everytime. He helplessly dragged you from the bar towards the parking area, ignoring your initial question and the urge to scold you for the whole ruckus with wonwoo.

“I’ll drop you home cutie” he exclaimed, checking the level.

“I’m no cutie! And what about minjunie. And I don’t wanna go with you. I wanna be alone.” He giggled as you pouted at him, a rare sight to behold.

“yeah yeah I know you wanna be alone and blah blah but its past 11 already -

“soooooo. The protocol shall be followed despite the severi-

“shut up! You are not in a class dude. N hurry up, I’ve to pick minjun’s drunk ass as well!”

The discontent in his tone was apparent while he showed you the way forward. continuously wrestling against his strong hands, he finally gave up when you almost tripped over nothing.

“stop annoying me y/n!”

“am i?” you pouted at him. “I don’t wanna go with you. don’t you understand!” he rubbed his temples in desperation.

“fine I’ll call someone else. But you can’t go alone.” But as he was fishing out his phone, you were gone.

After five minutes he spotted you outside, waving for a taxi.

“why are you so difficult?” his words fell to deaf ears. Watching you continue your frolics, he thought about giving up as a scheme formed in his head. Stopping a taxi , he ushered you in the back seat, moving to talk to the driver instead.

“no you aren’t coming!” you cried, showing your head out of the window. He grabbed his hair in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’m not coming with you my mother! Let me give the address to the driver or else you’ll end up nowhere.” He pleaded, clasping his hands, bowing at you.

You giggled pleasantly at his gesture, hands flailing at him. “I don’t live in campus. I’ll give you the address. Wait!” after searching for your phone, you showed him the address saved in the notes app. That indeed surprised him for he wasn’t aware that you changed but decided against asking you. if it was not your new address, it could be trusted enough to be safer as it was saved under “my home”. Commanding the driver with an extreme firmness, he went away. Even in the drunk state, you were sure to some extent that maybe car was not moving.

“let’s go uncle!”

“your friend told me to wait.” you threw your head back realising that kook was upto something. A loud horn heightened your senses as the car moved.

Asshole, you muttered, grasping that he was clearly following you.

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

“bop bop!” an eternity has passed for you in a futile try of remembering the password. The digits were changing their positions, as you regarded them.

“bop bop!” you tried again, mumbling to yourself, not knowing that you were not even banging the door in the first place. Standing still in your intoxicated state, arms crossed, the daggers you were throwing at the door would give any passer by a food to laugh but unluckily, there was noone there.

Bobbing your head from side to side, you started walking down the corridor, coming back at the your own door every few minutes. Curiously you pressed random button near the keypad. It was a bell, that you didn’t noticed earlier.

“wh- noona! You are here!” it was jaemin. He hugged you tightly before letting you in.

“duh! I’m waiting from last ten years but you won’t open.” Another giggle let jaemin known that you were in inebriated state.

“you are drunk.” He whispered.

“shhhh” you said , throwing your heels.

With jelly legs, you wobbled to the kitchen, catching attention of each and every presence in the living room and there were many of them.

“oh hiya! Home tweet home.” You chanted, hands waving like the wipers of a car. Hyuck and mark greeted you while jaehyun just sat down again, shaking his head in disbelief. However yuta was stunned and hooked to his place. He saw you navigating to the fridge, dropping the bottle, picking it up again, gulping it down, jaemin snatching it from you, apparently for you own benefit.

Jaemin guided you for your room before you got distracted by yuta’s figure staring you down.

“moshi moshi. Don’t you have any Japanese to throw at me today.” Yuta heard jaemin and others snickering as you slurred, walking unsteadily to him. He simply rolled his eyes, waiting for you to complete your attack.

“oh hi hyuck. I heard you don’t change your underwear for years. Go and take a bath right now. Asap” the liquid jaehyun was drinking, came out as a spray from his nose at the insult. Everyone was laughing at your antics except yuta. He scanned you up and down, eyes fixating on the fresh hickies on your visible neck.

“and you moshi moshi. You a-act like an angry young man all the damn ti-time,” hiccups started in between, “ but answer me with your half braincell- what kind of criminal you are! Atleast hid your face while shooting people dude.”

Yuta’s jaw cletched at your use of words, tension rising in the room. His neutral face changed into an angry one as you went on and on, all while poking his chest with your forefinger. “and that knife of yours! What are you? a street goon who hires little kids to scan cctvs for the-

And your body lunged forward, head resting where your finger was, passed out. Yuta’s red eyes didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Anger radiated his body as he removed hands from his pockets to push you off but mark scooped your sleeping figure in his arms, signalling jaemin to open the door. After finding the key in your purse, mark laid you on the bed, rolling you to the side as jaemin placed a pillow behind to save you from falling.

They arrived in the hall only to find yuta already waiting for them.

“what was the need to baby her? She’s an adult and got drunk at her own expense. Didn’-

“so what hyung? Why are you making it a big deal!” mark replied.

“she is the one who makes everything a big deal. Didn’t you just hear how she was just trash talking about you all! She never fucking leaves a chance to spit at my face that I am a criminal –

“that’s what we are! We are damn criminals and she doesn’t know anything about us”

“but she says it like we are not even humans-

“I don’t understand why are you always throwing her under the bus hyung! Drunk people speak shit and she was totally hammered. Just let it go! Your punishment is over after two days, don’t spoil your mood over something so silly.”

“you can’t ord-

“yes I can and will order you because I agree with her. You do own just a half braincell that is not letting you think properly. Now don’t you dare mention all this to her in the morning.” Several pairs of eyes wandered between yuta and mark as the air became more pressured.

“so you do admit she is in wrong here hmm”

“she was just acting with her pure conscious. She saw a man dying and went to police. Tae hyung just made sure that she isn’t leaving anytime soon. She is trapped with criminals. What else do you expect from her? I know exactly what you want.” Suddenly mark’s eyes softened as he went on. “You are craving empathy hyung. This is what I have seen in your eyes from the first day. You want everyone to realise that you are also wounded. You don’t despise her in actual but just the sympathy that wasn’t given to you in the first place. Stop acting like a stone. While blaming her you shouldn’t be forgetting that it was supposed to be me. You filled my spot as the killer. It started with me-

“no ma-

“it all started coz I was dammit feeling too sleepy to finish that contract killer. It was supposed to be a sniper attack but you had to go instead-

“I forgot my cover mark. How are you the cause when the problem was my own stupidity in the first place!” yuta shouted, tense silence following. Mark smiled a bit at him before continuing.

“then why do you hate her so much. shouldn’t you be hating me for sending you there or yourself for being careless. We should be compromising, not her. Just stop fighting with running water.”

He quietly said before picking up his jacket, going out. Everyone took that as a cue for leaving as well. Nobody uttered anything. The house was empty but mark’s words echoed in the space for entirety of the night, squeezing yuta into the reality he wasn’t ready to face.

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

Your head felt like it was carrying all the weight of the world. Light harmed your vision, footsteps made you dizzy as you treaded for the door. Kitchen was suddenly too far away, everything looking too large for the squinted eyes. Water and sugar! two things circled in your head like a mantra, only until you felt a sharp pain in your waist. You slightly cursed the counter for bumping into you and stepped further to get water. the water soothed only your throat, stomach still craved sugar so you placed the large bottle on the counter, returning to open the fridge.

Some shuffling around the corner woke up yuta, who was resting on the couch. It hasn’t been more than few hours that he finally let himself immersed into the dreamland. His night and half of the day was spent in unearthing the deep hole that mark had thrown him into. He got annoyed at himself for failing in reaching a conclusion that would led to mark being wrong and it was the result of this constant thought provoking activity that he was having a persistent headache. He grumbled at the stiff neck as he got up. 13:03. Another sound came from somewhere, stimulating his body to check. With droopy eyes, he noticed you. actually half of you as the other half was searching for gold in the fridge. The hiked up dress was enough to give a free show of your bare legs without any strain. The thought of you eating his food wiped up all the drowsiness, making him go to kitchen.

“its not your bedroom. Close it.” He criticised, yawns escaping simultaneously. You didn’t move for his voice didn’t reach you in the first place. He tsked at your lack of senses as he neared you. but as soon as your figure got larger, his body met the floor brutally, several groans of pain leaving him. You turned around at the noise to see yuta struggling as his knee hit the polished hardwood. His other hand went to the counter for some support but it slipped causing his elbow to hit the cabinet handle more violently. His shout of anguish striked through your sensitive ears, making you swear in irritation.

Your eyes slowly traced the liquid under his body to the top of the counter. the water bottle. It was tilted and empty by the time you noticed and the water was what made yuta slipped in first place.

“fuck it!” he growled, discomfort contorting his features.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.”

#neowritingsnet #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct arrange marriage #nct mafia #yuta arrange marriage #yuta mafia #yuta angst #yuta scenarios #yuta series #nct series

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touchmycoat · 2 years

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mido, i would like to uhh ask for our thots on something - lemme preface this ask first by saying that this is more of a "me" problem, than it is the other party, but, here goes: if there's one thing that i've learned since consuming danmei, it's that you have two very different approaches to it re: fandom. on the one hand, you have the camp of ppl who like to go all out and wild w/ canon, do whatever, enjoy however, and on the other, ppl who try to stick closely to canon, or - 1/?

- those who don't even engage in fandom at all, and are just there to discuss the text as it is. there's nothing wrong with both approaches - we're all just here to have a good time. that being said, it kind of is giving me ??? doubt as to whether or not i'm enjoying fandom the right way. ofc there's no wrong or right way to enjoy a piece of media, and i like to think that this sin't an anne rice situation at all, but - i see ppl say fanon is shit all the time, ppl don't like certain ships.. 2/?

b/c the characters in the ships are so far removed from who they are in the text that they're pretty much just "ocs wearing the character's faces" that i have to just pause, and rlly ponder - am i doing fandom the *right* way? and it's cause for concern because i've done fandom like this ever since. i mean, my first foray into fandom was legit reading pwp/dead dove wild-ass content that was so far removed from canon, and it's been the same for every fandom i've ever been a part of 3/?

a bit of bg on me: before i came to danmei, i was knee-deep in comics. and if there's one thing you need to know abt comics - hell, even star wars - it's that anything goes re: canon because canon changes SO MUCH every few years - canon is always at the whims of the next writer who comes on board, and so it's more or less just a free-for-all pick-what-you-want buffet re: canon. doesn't mean you didn't have the occasional disk horse or meta re: canon & fanon, but. 4/?

i suppose it's just been quite.. the change of pace? anyway, fun fact: i came away from my last fandoms worrying abt and trying to be more dead dove, and now i'm worrying abt whether or not my interpretations will be canon-compliant enough. (damn @self, pick a struggle dude) anyways, one thing i've noticed is that, with mxtx, sv mains are well, i mean the book is legit sy reinventing pidw canon, and anything just goes in sv - so it's perfect. and i guess my worry is that there are - 6/?

- some mdzs-main authors whom i rlly rlly respect but am also so intimidated by because they have such amazing meta on canon events that i'm a little worried abt them seeing my works in the sv ao3 tag - even tho i know some of them don't rlly read fic - and well, getting vagued abt how my fic and interpretation of the story might be, or is, subpar. like i said, it's a me problem, because fandom is all abt writing for yourself, and the easy fix is to simply post on an altogether diff platform 7/?

but, yeah. i guess i'm just - i'm feeling kinda lost, and i get that this is borne out of my own irrational anxiety, but - what're are your thoughts on it? what do you think - is there like, not exactly *right*, but a more *aligned* way of interpreting canon that stays true to the spirit of the story, or should fandom be also all abt going crazy with your ideas? imo, u could adapt a "business in the front, party in the back" strategy on ao3 8/?

- use two complete separate profiles - one account for canon-compliant stuff and another for the id-stuff. but, yeah. i realize that the numbering of my asks may be wonky as hell, because i didn't write this ask in one go and section it off, so i'm rlly sorry if the numbering is confusing af when you view it in your inbox. anyways, that's abt it, and thank you sm for entertaining me, i rlly appreciate i. no rush, this is a super long and ?? ask, and i hope you have a nice day!

aah i hope you're having a good day too darling! it sounds like you're feeling anxious about the engagement aspect of fandom, that maybe there's a monolithic interpretation of canon and a "mainstream" way fans are supposed to enact fics/art/vids/etc. To deviate from that would garner negative notoriety, specifically from people whose interpretations are widely regarded as "good and true" and whose interpretations you also do personally like.

To directly answer your question, I do think that fandom should be all about going crazy with your ideas. I don't believe in any policing at all.

Let me try to impose a concrete example onto this real quick (do tell me if I'm misunderstanding). Back when I was on bird app, i followed two kinds of accounts: the Analysts and the Horny Folks. They're not mutually exclusive ofc lmfao but for the sake of ease: we have a set of tweets that are like, "SV identifies XYZ specific failings in stallion novel tropes, prescribes them to toxic masculinity, and reworks them in ABC ways" and another set of tweets that are like, "so Bingge kidnaps SQQ and LQG from canon timeline and fists them both one on each hand." Both kinds of tweets take hard (hard 💕) work to produce and both kinds feed me, god bless. But if you were to write fic based on these, only the first kind of tweets invites the question of whether or not you're going to incorporate that into your writing, which may or may not manifest as pressure bc it's 1) from a person you appreciate and 2) if you don't, you think maybe other fans who've seen those tweets will think you're doing something wrong or ignorant. Furthermore, if I want to write fic based on the second kind of tweets, do I then have to incorporate the gospel as spoken by the first kind of tweets??

Hell no!! You sure can but you don't have to. I feel like you know this is the answer already so let me just affirm that.

Look, I will say that I think there are fan interpretations out there that are more canon-aligned—but then I gotta ask myself the question, which fics are trying to be? When I read a Modern AU winter fluff 2k songxiao fic, I don't need it to have incisive commentary on the canon theme of blame and complicity, y'know? The fans who wrote that fic also aren't trying to give me that. Same thing with porn. I think the question at the heart of all reading endeavors is "what is the author trying to do?" The onus isn't all on the writer to be good, imo. Good readers will ask that question and meet the author where they're at, esp in fandom. It makes no sense to expect the same thing of a 4k coffee shop AU meet-cute and a 40k post-canon fix-it. It sounds like you're a generous reader and fan who is experienced with accepting, appreciating, and working with multiple interpretations of fandom (oh man, coming from comic fandoms?? you've got a soul of steel babe). So you know well that not everybody needs one definite and consistent reading of canon to happily engage in fandom. Many others are the same as you~! Even the BNFs, most likely. And if you follow people who post things that sour your self-confidence, here's the friendly reminder to unfollow them.

Another possible way to avoid concerns about being called out for misinterpretation is to write for smaller ships and audiences lmfao. Too many existing metas about the main character? Write about a minor character instead, wahoo! Too much ship content with a cemented dynamic? Write a completely new ship nobody's even heard of, ayooo. It's both good writing exercise and good for the soul 'cause people who find you want to be there and everyone else won't even see what you've done. I just think it's sexy lololol on both the reading and writing sides.

Okay also—there are interesting politics about "who has the more correct interpretation" when it comes to danmei bc not everyone has access to Chinese. I don't know if this plays a factor in your worries in any way? It's a whole other conversation lmfao so I'll keep it short but I definitely have had complex feelings about my own readings vs. non-Chinese speakers' readings vs. other "authorities" on interpreting the Chinese etc. etc.

At the end of the day, fandom is a sandbox and you should play how you want. Write your id fics, publish them on main, publish them on anon, don't publish them at all—whatever makes you happy! It sounds like visibility plays a large part in what you're anxious about? So yeah, maybe a side account or going anon is the way to go. I know people who do exactly what you said, one main for the character work and one side for the id food!! That's fucking valid fam. I have works on anon for the same reason.

As for people visibly chatting about the validity of certain characterizations or interpretations...that just can't be helped, y'know? It's the nature of the internet, and it's another way of fandom engagement. As long as it's not mean-spirited, I think you just have to make peace with it. Carry that dead dove spirit with you, maybe!! I fucking love dead dove fics. "I have done this and it is here and I'm not apologetic about it." That's just completely tits out and phenomenal. Alternatively, maybe try to manifest digital data in analog—this is what I do whenever I get anxious about my presence in fandom. The digital world distort the impact and importance of most things, y'know? Whenever I think someone is out of my league, it helps me to imagine a chat as a face-to-face discussion, and that reminds me this is a cool person yeah but they still have like, a real face and a real body with all of its real, normal things like itching and the possibility of tripping on stuff. A BNF might say something that makes me feel super insecure but i dunno, they still have to periodically scrub down the sink. They're still cool but they're also normal. Your methods of engagement are 100% valid with or without consideration to people you admire.

anyways those are my thoughts. It might also be worth mentioning too that people who apply strict standards of canon-compliance to their own readings and writings might not apply those same standards to others. I certainly don't. I mean, it's arguable how canon-compliant my interpretations are lmfao but I certainly try for it. But it's not so important for when I'm reading, y'feel? The central concern of reading, at least for me, is more "has this author sold me on their story" and less about whether or not it complies with "my" readings. if I'm only interested in my readings, I wouldn't be reading other people's works. And if I am in fact not interested in other people's interpretations, then maybe you shouldn't be so interested in my interpretations either hahahha.

#long post #anon #is this useful? i hope this is useful #live and let live #i just hate when people get mean about shit #but i also recognize some people are just engaging without being mean-spirited #so i just gotta peace out kjsdnfkjsdnf #it's part of why i deletd twitte #anyways if you like hugs here's a hug #DO WHAT YOU WANT #FUCK ALL THE NOISE TELLING YOU OTHERWISE

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phantom-curve · 3 years

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probably should give this a title pt. 2

yooooo so I wrote this second lil blurb in the middle of the night and then I wrote 3,000 words for the next chapter of my novel and I’m just honestly thrilled that these writing exercises are working out so well for my creative process. and I’m mad happy ya’ll like this. it feels like such a silly little thing when I write it, but your responses make me feel like it’s so much more. thank you

adding the tag list at the top! lemme know if you wanna be added. @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder (really hope I did these right. I am not lying when I tell you I am the most technologically challenged millennial)

also, I’m really out of the fandom loophole so I’m still trying to figure out if it would be better to post this in it’s entirety to a website somewhere. how do you guys feel about ao3? would you prefer to read these posts there or do you like them being only on tumblr? please give me your feedback, I am but a humble internet granny at the mercy of your social media recommendations.

The next day, as Julie was walking to school by herself, contemplating the mess that was her life now, a car pulled over next to her on the side of the road. At first, she ignored it. She pretended she didn’t hear the way the tires slowed, crunching on the gravel in the bike lane. She had her headphones in after all, it was a believable excuse. Then the sound cut off entirely. A door opened and closed, the thud echoing in the cool morning air.

“Hey, Molina!”

His voice was loud enough that Julie would have been able to hear him even with the volume turned all the way up. Still, she continued on like she hadn’t noticed him. Her step never faltered down the path, a good 10 feet away from where his car was parked, still idling. Without warning, a warm hand grasped her left wrist.

“Julie.”

Her name was a caress, soft and warm as it wove its way into her ear. It was intimate in a way she didn’t feel fully comfortable with. She shivered, goosebumps rippling down her arms. He released his grip, but the ring his fingers had made around her wrist burned like a brand. Slowly, hands trembling ever so slightly, she reached up to remove her earbuds. She turned on her heel, eyes focused on his forehead, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Hey, Luke.”

One of his thick eyebrows rose, silently asking if she was really going to act like she hadn’t heard his approach. She stuck out her chin in response, forever her mother’s headstrong, stubborn twin. He puffed out his cheeks and then let his breath go on a slight chuckle, lips turning up at the edges, eyes crinkling. He swept his hands out in a grand gesture, showcasing the parked car behind them with a dramatic flourish.

“Need a ride to school?”

Her first instinct was to frown and give him an unequivocal “no”. She got as far as the frown before her eyes fully focused on the car, or more importantly, who was inside of the car. She didn’t have very long to study them before the other boys were climbing out of the passenger side and backseat of the car in perfect synchronization. Her frown intensified, brown eyes snapping to meet Luke’s earnest gaze.

“Hi Julie!”

A lean, dark-haired boy raised his leather jacket clad arm in a cheerful greeting. She felt her own arm raise without conscious thought, Reggie’s unbreakable cheerfulness pulling a response out of her despite herself. Her eyes skimmed over to the other boy. Alex’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, blonde hair flopping into his eyes as he grimaced at her.

“Sorry. If it’s any consolation, I told him to just keep driving.”

“Sooooo, can we give you a ride?”

Julie’s attention was pulled back to the boy standing in front of her by his soft drawl. She studied him from head to toe, brow furrowing as she tried to decide what, exactly, he was playing at here. By the time she reached his face, she could tell he had figured out what she was doing. He gave a little scoff, shoulders rising in a defensive, self-deprecating move that she knew all too well. Better to insult yourself, act like none of it really mattered anyway, before someone else could stick the knife in.

He kicked one foot out, scuffing the dirt between them. He expected the no now, was practically banking on it. Something about his immediate response told her that he had been hearing it all his life, especially in those moments when he was offering up a vulnerable side of himself. Like right now. Julie studied the three faces before her, someone was missing – wasn’t there usually four of them? Her resolve cracked, splintering beyond recognition as she gave in with a long-suffering sigh. She had always been a sucker for band boys.

“Okay, fine.”

The smile that stretched across his lips shone with such an intensity Julie briefly wished she had sunglasses. It wasn’t fair that he was able to make his face that...that nice looking. How was she supposed to resist his kindness when he looked at her like that? With another over-the-top wave of his arms he led her towards the car.

“Your chariot awaits.”

The murmur was meant for her ears only, Luke leaning so close she could feel the heat from his breath against her ear. She shivered again, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He smirked at her and seemed to almost bounce as he led her to the car. Reggie and Alex exchanged a quick high-five with him, Alex immediately relinquishing the front seat to Julie, brushing her argument aside when she tried to take the backseat instead.

“Passenger seat gets to control the radio. Consider it a musical education for our sweet little Lucas.”

Luke stuck his tongue out and gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes before leveling Julie with a surprisingly hot look over the top of the car. She gulped, unwilling to let herself be sucked in by the ever-present charm that seemed to ooze from his pores. She gave him a small nod and slipped into the passenger seat, buckling herself in before he could remind her. Reggie and Alex crowded in the back and once again Julie realized this band picture was incomplete.

“Where’s Bobby?”

The storm clouds that immediately rolled into the car told Julie this was exactly the wrong question to ask. For one single moment she regretted it, and then she decided, fuck it, her trauma and grief had been on open display for everyone to see for the last year. She deserved to pry a little bit into someone else’s life for once. Luke’s hands flexed on the wheel, his lips curling into his teeth. Reggie and Alex exchanged a quick look before the drummer leaned forward.

“Bobby...isn’t really a part of our band anymore. Turns out we had different...musical aspirations as it were.”

Luke gave a faint growl and Alex rolled his eyes. Reggie jumped to cover up the awkward silence.

“Enough about that, dude, how did your meeting with Ms. Harrison go yesterday?”

And now it was Sunset Curve’s turn to ask the worst question imaginable. Misery really did love company, eh? Julie felt herself shrink into the seat, knees curling into her chest as she fought to keep her breathing steady. Alex and Luke both groaned loudly, Alex’s hand darting out to smack the bassist’s arm hard enough to make an indent in the leather.

“We should get going or we’re gonna be late for school.”

The words scraped against the lump in her throat, barely rasping their way to the surface. Julie turned her face to look out the passenger side window, her dismissal clear in every tense line of her neck and jawline. Luke started the car, frustration evident in his jerky movements and fiery glances thrown into the rearview mirror. The engine started up loud enough to cause Alex to jump slightly. Reggie looked at the blonde boy next to him with confused desperation, had he stuck his foot in it again?, but the drummer just groaned and buried his face in his hands. Reggie dared one more glance at Julie’s stiff profile, clearly that meeting was a touchy topic. He caught Luke’s exasperated glare and suddenly understood that maybe asking Julie about the make-it-or-break-it music program meeting wasn’t the best idea this early on a Tuesday morning. Luke rolled his eyes as he saw the realization dawn, but it was too late to do anything now. Julie had shut down in the passenger seat. In complete silence, they drove towards the high school.

#comin atcha hot with the next installment of my writer's block exercise #I didn't edit this cause I'm kinda tipsy so sorry for any typos #julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #Mads speaks #Mads writes #jatp ficlet #someone please help me name this thing #it's literally saved in my writing folder as jatp writer's block lmfao #it deserves a real name #julie molina #luke patterson #find the strength find the melody

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 11: Discharge Plan

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)

Summary: The highs of Shane and Sy’s first weekend as a couple are followed up by some big news from Sy, leading to our couple’s first fight.

Don’t miss a session! Click here to catch up on this story or explore my other works!

Word Count: 2.7

Warnings: Language, mature themes, smut, sort of unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, angst, alcohol consumption,

Author’s Note: First off, I wanna talk about the word “victuals.” I’ve loved this word for a long time, even though it makes no sense, phonetically as it actually rhymes with the “fiddles” or “riddles.”(It’s true, look it up!) It’s very pastoral and somewhat archaic, so you don’t hear it too much anymore in current writing about the present, but I just felt like Sy would say it. Secondly, it was really hard for me to put my darlings through the argument in this chapter. I want them to have only happy times…but that provides no tension or motivation for story development…and I want to keep writing them more than I want them to be happy… I guess I finally understand why authors torture their characters! Lol! It might take a bit of time for me to sort out what their relationship looks like adding the distance factor, but I have some ideas that might work. Also, it might be an opportunity to do a bit more of Sy’s perspective, which I thoroughly enjoy, and may go back and fill in some blanks for him in between chapters I’ve already done. I hope you all enjoy this installment of the Treatment of Captain Syverson! Feedback in any form is always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

@wheretheriversrunintothesea

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

The rest of the weekend was spent in blissful relaxation. Sy went to his place to feed Aika and bring her over at Shane's insistence. The dog had been slightly standoffish with her, but Sy assured her that it was in her nature to be aloof, and that she needed to be engaged or instructed to behave more doglike.

"It's her training. She's still a soldier. It's hard for us to shake those habits. Like me calling you 'ma'am' at first."

"She's another die hard. I respect that." she chuckled, scratching Aika behind her perked ears, and eliciting pants of contentment from her.

Sy's skills with a spatula were unmatched. That was to say, he made the best pancakes she'd ever had. They almost didn't need syrup…almost. They ordered an obscene amount of Chinese takeout which lasted them about three meals each. Sunday evening, though, which had a gloom to it no matter the circumstances, required some comfort food. They agreed on pasta, so Shane made up some of her famous alfredo sauce and probably twice the recommended portion of pasta for two humans to consume. There were no leftovers. Sy had three helpings, himself. Three heaping bowls of it. Shane couldn't handle more than one and a half servings, even though she wanted to gorge herself. She knew too much would make her ill.

When they weren't eating, the were cuddling on the couch, or in Shane's bed. They watched more Parks and Rec, and a few other films and shows that Sy requested, just to break things up. Their bodies were constantly wrapped in each other, leading to frequent bouts of making out, fooling around, and sex in almost every room of the house.

Her favorite had been the shower. She insisted on getting cleaned up, but Sy had objections.

~~~~~~~~

"I'll be less than ten minutes, come on, I reek! You can't wanna kiss me when I smell like this!" she said, trying to shut the bathroom door on the human mack truck before her. Broad and formidable.

"You smell like sex, and…me, darlin. I've never wanted to kiss you more," he said, backing her up toward the shower doors. "but I guess if you must. Lemme help, though." he pulled open the glass door, forcing her into his captivating kiss, and maneuvering her backward into the walk-in, stone tile shower. He pulled off her tank top, capturing her breasts in his hands and mouth for a moment before kneeling to remove her shorts and kiss her thighs. He pulled himself away too quickly and started the water flowing.

"Sy, you're fully dressed!" he was barefoot, but otherwise, in jeans and her favorite of his tees. The letters DILLIGAF across a skull, black on red. She always laughed on the inside when she saw it. Because although Sy often had to put on a calloused and brusque act when he'd been an officer in the Army, he was terribly soft and sweet when the occasion called for it. The irony being that although he didn't look like he gave a fuck, he actually did.

"I've got more clothes in the truck and you've got a dryer." he maneuvered her under the pulsing stream of the showerhead. "Gotta get you wet." he let the water run through her hair as he reached for her shampoo, a coconutty concoction that reminded her of summer, squeezed a bit into his hand, and lathered it up. He worked the suds into her wet hair gently, raking his nails across her scalp in a way that excited and ignited every atom in her. She sighed at his touch which made him groan with need.

He tilted her head back to rinse the lather out and reached for the conditioner. He was a bit more generous with it than strictly necessary, but she didn't protest. He pulled her hair forward in two sections, one over each shoulder and worked the emollient into the strands. His hands slick from the product, he ran them over her breasts and her abdomen and hips…between her legs. There her own arousal was primed to combine with the tropical unction. She gasped as he worked his fingers over her, slow at first, but speeding up, only to slow again. When she finally whimpered in frustration, he undid his jeans, and backed her up to the stony grey wall, not giving a fuck, as his shirt had suggested, that he and his clothes were getting soaked. His only care now apparently, was to satisfy the simpering cries of "yes, please." from Shane.

His first few thrusts were slow and measured, knowing that she was still adjusting to his size. But it didn't take long for him to lose control. She wasn't sure what was making him like this, but she was not complaining in the least. The texture of his jeans on her bare, wet thighs was a sensation she wouldn't soon forget. She gripped at him, holding onto his shirt for dear life as her climax built to impossible heights.

She was loving the way he lost himself in the ferocity of the act. And his release led to hers immediately. She wrapped herself around him in blissful embrace, and whispered his name as a prayer.

"Sorry, darlin,' I meant to…"

"It's okay. I'm on the pill and I'm not at a particularly dangerous time in my cycle."

He kissed her tenderly and reached for her bath puff and some body wash. "Well, let’s get ya cleaned up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only good part about Monday was that she'd be treating him. Although, he was scheduled in the afternoon. Her morning would drag on eternal.

He greeted her with a typical "hey, susnshine" and she led him into the gym, feeling his gaze on her ass, wanting, even though they'd just left each other quite satisfied that morning. He was freshly showered, beard well groomed, and his hair growing back in very nicely. He'd asked her weeks ago whether he should keep the buzzed look or not, and she had been entirely for growing it out. She wanted something to run her hands through. She'd be fine if it was at least shoulder length, but she wouldn't push that on him.

They did their normal warm up on the bikes, followed by some plyometric drills, which made him scowl at her in a way that lit her up like a firecracker. But the fact that he was able to jump up onto the box was encouraging. He couldn't have done that a month ago. He was progressing so well and was so close to his long term goals and discharge. It almost made Shane sad. It wasn't as though they wouldn't see each other, but having him break up the insanity of her day three times a week for just an hour was invaluable.

As they were doing their usual end of the session stretch in her treatment room, and she noted the improved range of motion he was getting, he broke the amiable silence with a question.

"Hey, can I bring a pizza or somethin' over for dinner tonight after you get off?"

"Sure!" she could tell there was something he wanted to say, but was holding back. She prodded. "Everything okay? You've been a bit…off today."

"I'm good. Just a little distracted." he deflected by touching her hip, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She swatted him away.

"Not here, Sy."

"But that makes it fun!" he pouted.

"No, that really could get me fired! Getting frisky on company time!"

"Mmmm, I'd love to frisk you right now." he reached between their legs to try and grab her again, but she thwarted him and pinned his wrists at his ears.

"Cool it, cowboy, or your last two sessions are gonna make you wish you'd never met me." she threatened.

"Ain't nothin', nothin' on God's good green earth could make me wish that, sunshine." His stunning blue eyes softened her resolve and she let go, continuing to stretch him.

"Still…cool it." she grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd just had time to change into some comfy clothes, wash her face, and put her hair up when her doorbell rang.

Sy stood smiling under the porch light, a modern white knight, carrying a large pizza from Pizza Hut and a six pack of Miller High Life.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes! And it's nice to see you too, Sy!" she laughed, teasing him.

"Should I leave the victuals and go?" he asked, mock concern on his sarcastic brow.

"Get in here, soldier."

She got out napkins and paper plates because as horrible as it sounded, she just couldn't think about doing dishes tonight. She was even glad Sy had brought drinks in disposable or recyclable containers, and not wine, which she tended to prefer. She was exhausted, but not upset, which made the silence they ate in bearable. Sy still seemed to have something on his mind, though.

"Did you have something you wanted to talk about tonight, Sy?"

"Kinda, yeah, uh…it's kind of a big thing for me, and I know this is new, what we have, but…well, I'll just tell ya."

"Go on." she encouraged, worried.

"I…I talked to my old CO about jobs in the private sector. He referred me to a company that…well it's sort of an employment agency for vets. Mostly security for private companies and individuals. I had a phone interview with them this past Tuesday. I just got a call this morning that they want to meet me in person to finalize everything. Mostly a formality. When I go for that, I'll also have to stay there a couple of weeks to a month for training."

"Where is this…gig?" She said, flat affect hiding the feelings brewing under her skin.

"The offices are in Charlottesville…Virginia. And there may be some cross country training there in Shenandoah National Park."

"Cross country…by that do you mean survival training?" She was still cool, but getting more livid.

"You could call it that, I guess. But it won't be a challenge for me. I'm more worried about the technical stuff." His bravado and flippancy about the whole endeavor was enraging her. The thought that he'd be in the wilderness alone, was only a fraction of the big picture. He was going away for a month? And he had known about the job for a week now. A week in which so much about their relationship had changed, and shifted. How could he think she'd just accept this without a bit of raging.

"You waited until after we slept together to tell me this. You did it on purpose, Sy." that was the biggest problem, she thought. The fact that he seemed to be hiding it from her. It brought back old trauma that she thought he'd never have subjected her to.

"Yes and no, Shane. I wasn't intentionally keeping anything from you, I just didn't wanna bring it up until somebody bit."

"You wanted to keep me in the dark about something you were excited about? How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I didn't wanna get your hopes up or mine. Honestly."

"Saying 'honestly' doesn't make it honest, Sy. I've told you about everything that Elliott put me through. The lies. The secrets. This puts a bad taste in my mouth. You have to see that. Can't you?"

"Oh, sunshine, I--"

"No, please. Do not do that right now. Don't call me sunshine when all I can see is the night."

"I'm so sorry. My intention was not to make you feel in any way like that asshole ever did. Please hear me when I say that. I want to be the opposite of him in your mind in every way, darlin.' Please believe that."

There was so much sincerity in his voice, now nearing tearfulness that she felt he must be telling her the truth. She nodded. But was still apprehensive about the nature of the job and the training.

"But…what if you get hurt again?"

"I won't. You've all but fixed me, Shane. I'm stronger than ever."

"Can't you just…find a safe job? Here?" She was being selfish. She couldn't help it. Even though she knew she might regret it.

"Sit at a desk, ya mean? Deliver pizzas?" he indicated the box between them on the table. "Call people and ask them if they're happy with their cable services, Shane? Is that all I'm good for now?" he was angry.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, of course not. You're a PT. That's what you were meant to do, right? Well, imagine if you couldn't do that no more. Something or another, an injury, perhaps, or just plain ol' shitty situation, left you in a position where you couldn't go back. Couldn't do your dream job. Couldn't fulfill your purpose." he spat. "Wouldn't you do anything you could to be some shadow of what you were meant to be?"

She couldn't speak. Because he was right in so many ways.

"Because right now, I'm nothin'. I'm not doin' anyone any good. I'm a drain on my country, the one I swore to protect with my very life. It's like I've broken an oath. And it's fractured my soul."

"I see that. I truly do. But I need you here. You do ME good, Sy. I'm already half dreading d/c'ing you. I don't wanna have to say a goodbye, too." it was her truth. But it hit him very much sideways.

"So…what is it, Shane? You only want me when I'm broken? You only want me so you can fix me?"

"No, of course not! That's not what--"

"Am I a charity case to ya now? Is that why ya finally gave in and let me in your bed?"

"Sy, no!" she was crying now. It had hurt so much to think that he could have gotten that from what she'd said.

"I think if you can have feelings hurt about this situation then so can I."

He stood to leave, but she caught him by the wrist.

"Shane…you know I would never, ever harm you. But please… don't test my limits. Let… go." She did.

She was still quite a bit faster than him, so she ran ahead and blocked the door.

"Move." he insisted. She didn't.

"Hear me out, and then I'll let you go."

He crossed his arms and nodded, his gaze still one of cold steel.

"Sy, I didn't mean to make this job that you're clearly excited for into a source of anguish or to make it about me. I'm thrilled that you're going to get to do something you want in another field. I really am. I just…being with you has made me realize how good life can really be. And even if you'd told me before we slept together, I would have said the same thing. It was selfish of me to haul my baggage into the conversation when you aren't, have never been, and could never be Elliot. His best couldn't compare with your worst. And I will do my best in the future to think about who you are before I complain about the work you find to do."

"It's like I said about Aika before. She's a soldier. Hard trained. And so am I. It took a lot of hard work for me to get where I am, so much that it fundamentally altered who I am as a person. Now, in my opinion, those changes were for the better. I was kind of a shit before I became a soldier, thought the sun rose and set with me. I got some perspective and met some good people…lost some, too. Saw some shit I can't unsee. Some of it haunts me to this day, and I figure it always will. But I reckon if I can keep fighting the fight somehow. Keep protecting people in whatever way I can, my training and experience won't be a total waste."

"I understand and respect that, Sy. And I will back you in any way I can. I'll water your plants, I'll keep Aika whenever you're gone, I'm here for you."

"Oh, shit! I wasn't even thinking about having to leave my dog behind! Maybe this WON'T work!" he chuckled.

"Second fiddle to another woman already. I knew you were gonna break my heart, Captain Logan Syverson."

"Never intentionally, sunshine." he hugged her, tight, and with his whole body. Their argument in the past and their future an exciting mystery. Shane had never felt so safe and loved.

Up Next: Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x ofc

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

Text

Spider-Man Lesson Number One

Prompt: Doesn’t Realize They’ve Been Injured

This was requested by my friend on Ao3 happy_to_be_here!

Irondad Tag List: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch

Thank you to @nazezdha321 and @sketchibilitea for beta reading this for me!

And of course we have to tag @badthingshappenbingo!

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list! Hope you all enjoy!

Read on AO3

“Oh my gooooooooooood this is so boring! Friday nights are usually crazy with crime, how is it so dead out here?” Peter said to himself.

“Crime levels fluctuate, Peter,” Karen said into his ear, startling him so hard he almost fell off the side of the building he was sitting on. “Though I did get a report of a disturbance a few streets away. My guess is law enforcement will not arrive for about ten minutes, plenty of time to help out and leave before you get caught.”

“Finally, good lord,” Peter said, shooting a web and swinging his way towards the street Karen indicated. “I mean it’s a Friday, where’s all the raging drunk college kids doing stupid stuff?”

“Perhaps they have all gone to sleep, Peter. It is rather late.”

“Pfft, it’s nine o’clock, the day’s just getting started for them,” Peter said with a snort. Peter landed with a flip on a building by his destination. “Karen, where exactly did you say--”

A scream cut him off and Peter whirled to look down in a dimly lit alleyway.

“Shit, Karen, night vision please?”

“Of course, Peter.”

Peter could suddenly see a man cornering what looked to be a woman and her son. The man lunged at them and the woman punched him hard, and Peter could hear the snap of one of her fingers from even up on the roof. Peter quickly lept down as the woman howled in pain.

“Woah! Hey hey buddy what’re you doing!?” Peter shouted as the man recovered from her punch. He pointed a sharp pocket knife at Peter and snarled, “Give me all your money you little brat!” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Why is it always the same with you guys? Can none of you get that I’ve beat up supervillains? What in the hell makes you think you’ll last longer than the Vulture?” Peter scoffed. The man faltered but didn’t back down, still pointing the blade directly at Peter’s face.

“Goddamit--I need this money!” The man growled.

“You don’t need anything enough to kill someone over it man,” Peter said. “Now are you gonna leave so we don’t have to do the ‘you struggle while I win’ thing, or is that the route you prefer? Remember, this action will have consequences.”

Heh, Ned would appreciate the Life is Strange reference, Peter thought absentmindedly. Hey actually I’m not sure how far he got on that game, I gotta ask him about that tomorr--

Peter’s thoughts were interrupted by the man suddenly swinging the blade far too close to Peter’s chest.

“Woah!” Peter said, doing his best to dodge the man’s swings but stay in front of the woman and her son behind him. “Not cool man!” Peter stopped the mugger’s fist on the fourth swing, squeezing his arm hard until he shouted and dropped the knife. Peter threw him against the wall and webbed him there muttering angrily to himself.

“Stupid fucking ADHD. Of course I forget my meds on a Friday, the day I should be the most focused! Dammit! C’mon Spider-Man, way to be an idiot,” Peter said as he scribbled a note and stuck it to the webbing over the man’s chest.

He turned to face the woman who was still holding her hand with a grimace while her son wailed next to her.

“Oh jeez, yeah that’s definitely broken, here lemme help with that,” Peter said as he saw a deep bruise blossoming over her dark skin. He shot a bit of webbing into his hand and gently wrapped it around her fingers. “That’s gonna dissolve in an hour so you’ll wanna get that checked out as soon as possible, um, I know someone who can help out if you need the bills paid for that--”

“It’s fine, I’m actually a nurse,” the woman said with a strained chuckle. She glanced up at Peter, but her expression suddenly changed to a look of horror. “Oh god, Spiderman--”

“Woops, I can just tell you missed a hyphen there,” Peter said, giving her a good natured glare. “It’s Spider, hyphen, Man. Man with a capital ‘M’. Sorry, I’m a bit of a stickler for this stuff--”

The small boy next to them cut him off with an ear splitting wail, and Peter suddenly felt his heart squeeze.

“Aw, kiddo, you’re alright!” Peter said, squatting down to be at eye-level with the child. He only cried harder, scrubbing his eyes and sniffling miserably in fear.

Peter gently touched his shoulder and looked right into his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly. That seemed to calm him down a bit, his wails shrinking into small whimpers. “What’s your name kiddo?”

“M-Miles,” he squeaked.

“Miles, huh? That’s a pretty cool name.”

“Not as cool as Spider-Man,” he huffed.

“Well who knows, kid! Maybe you’ll be Spider-Man someday too!” Peter said. Miles’s eyes lit up excitedly and he bounced on his feet.

“Would you teach me!?”

“Ha! I’m sure you could guilt me into it with those little puppy eyes,” Peter said. Miles made his best little doe eyes and Peter gasped.

“Oh no! I’ve been defeated by the cuteness! You’re too powerful Spider-Man!” he cried. Miles giggled in delight and Peter squinted his eyes in a mocking glare.

“Alright kid. Spider-Man lesson number one: Don’t watch the mouth, watch the hands!”

Peter flung an arm up and shot a web, flying high into the air with an elated shout. Peter could hear Miles shrieking with glee below and he smiled.

“See ya later Spider-Man!”

And Peter headed to the tower, taking no notice of the wet warmth dripping down his side.

~~~

Peter arrived at Stark Tower right on time for his curfew, which he still felt was too early to be heading home. Ten pm? Really?

But Tony said Aunt May would flay him alive if he let Peter break curfew just because she’d be gone for a week, and to be honest, Peter 100% believed him. She’s definitely a bit of a momma bear.

Peter quietly opened one of the windows, only noticing Tony was there when he jumped in surprise.

“Jesus kid, you about scared the hell outta me. You gotta quit that, you know I have heart problems,” he said, tossing his phone to the side on the couch.

But oddly enough, Peter was having a hard time hearing him. Or at least focusing on hearing him. Probably his ADHD again.

“Heheh,” Peter said, his laugh feeling weak. What was he laughing at again? Man, he really should’ve taken his medication.

“Kid? You alright?” Peter ignored him, staring at something on the window he’d just climbed through. It was a footprint, but it looked all smeared, and oddly… red.

“Wassat?” he mumbled, staring at the bloody footprint, and feeling rather dizzy. Was this an ADHD thing? He couldn’t remember.

“Oh my god, Peter! Shit, kid you’re bleeding!” Tony said through the water that seemed to be surrounding Peter’s ears.

“Hmm?” Peter said. Then he looked down at himself and realized there was a deep cut along his side, and blood had leaked out and run all the way down his leg.

Tony was saying something else, grabbing his arms and trying to lead him somewhere, but Peter resisted. He didn’t want to get blood tracked all over the carpet.

“Pr’tty sure this stuff ‘s s’pposed to stay inside me,” Peter mumbled. But the sight of his own blood flowing out of him had made Peter dizzy, and he very suddenly wasn’t worrying much about the carpet anymore.

In fact, he wasn’t worrying about anything at all.

~~~

Peter’s side was rather sore when he woke up in a hospital bed, though he was more surprised by the hospital bed than he was about the ache. Peter pushed himself into a sitting position and winced as pain lanced up his side.

“Careful kiddo,” a voice said from the doorway. There was Tony, standing there with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “You don’t wanna rip a stitch.”

“Oh. Yeah that’s a good idea. Wouldn’t wanna, um, do that.” They stared at each other for a moment before Tony rolled his eyes and gave him a soft smile.

“What I wanna know, is how the hell you swung all the way to the tower without noticing you had a seven-inch long gash in your side,” he said.

“Um… ADHD?”

“Ha! Well whatever you were thinking about must’ve been pretty damn distracting,” Tony prompted. Peter grinned, thinking back.

“I met this little kid named Miles. He said he wanted to be Spider-Man like me. I told him I’d teach him if he ever did become Spider-Man, I was thinking about what I’d show him,” Peter said. Tony’s gaze softened as he walked over.

“Well that’s real nice of you kid. But, you know that even though that gash will heal by tomorrow I still gotta tell your Aunt about this, right?” he said. He held out a cup of strawberry Jell-O, which Peter took with a snort.

“Yeah yeah, but can we just save that for later? I think I should recover from this before going into another battle,” Peter said, making his own version of Miles’s doe eyes. Tony scoffed and ruffled Peter’s hair.

“Sure kid. Eat your Jell-O and we’ll go watch some Star Wars,” he said.

Peter grinned widely and ate his treat, too distracted by the warmth in his chest to care about the ache in his side.

#irondad #spider-man: into the spider-verse #tony stark #peter parker #irondad fanfiction #bad things happen bingo: doesn't realize they've been injured #spider-man #Iron Man #miles morales #tw: blood #Marko's Fanfiction

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Feel More Alive

Word Count: 1,503 Warnings: language & (gag) mention of William A/N: The second that I saw this piece of artwork, I heard I Can’t Stand It by VHS Collection in my head, so the title comes from that song.

(ARTIST APPRECIATION SUBMISSION)

Happy Friday everyone! I know it’s been a little while since I posted one of these, and since there has been so much amazing art lately, I thought I would get back to it. This one made me gasp aloud when I first saw it, even though I KNEW it would be incredible from the second I sent the request in. @pheedraws literally never disappoints and always delivers absolutely stunning portraits and drawings, and this one was no exception.

Phoebe! How do you do it? How do you manage to get so much emotion and expression in your art? How do you fit so much detail and light and life into these pieces? You are an art enchantress... an ARTchantress, and I never cease to be amazed at the magic you create.

So from me to you, THANK YOU so much for sharing your talent with all of us. You are fabulous, you are appreciated, you are a frickin gem.

He should not be allowed to look that good in purple aubergine and yet...

The wide expanse of the city spread out before him as he took his seat across from the solid plate glass wall. The hotel bar that he was in offered one of the most stunning views available of Singapore at night, and while he’d been to the city countless times before on business due to the island-nation’s favorable international tax rates, he couldn’t remember the last time he had visited purely for pleasure. When was the last trip I took where I wasn’t working? He couldn’t remember that either, only able to recall the various times he’d been in the room where he sat now. Outside, the lotus shaped structure of the ArtScience museum went from orange to violet as the lights changed, the reflections bouncing off the water below and coming through the window to tint Logan’s cheeks. Maybe one’a these days I’ll get down there, check it out. I bet-

A server came by then to deliver two tall, slender champagne flutes, and Logan let his thoughts trail off as the woman smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you right now, Mr. Delos?” She tucked her small round tray beneath her arm, the fingers of her free hand skimming the bottom hem of her dress where it sat almost plastered to her thighs before trailing those same fingertips over the table top. Subtle.

It wasn’t her fault. He knew that the staff here had been instructed to cater to whatever requests their high profile visitors might have. In the past he would have taken her up on her offer, but this trip, while still business related, was different for a few reasons. Logan returned her smile, undoing the button on his jacket and leaning back in his seat. “No, thank you, I’m all set for now.”

She let her tongue slip out from between her lips before giving him another slowly spreading smile and bringing her hand up to innocently toy with one of her dangling earrings. “Well, if anything changes, I’d be happy to-”

I’m sure you would. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” He lifted his glass to her, cocking one eyebrow as he did, then brought it to his mouth and took a large gulp. The woman nodded and turned to head back to the bar, but Logan caught her throw one last glance over her shoulder at him as she did.

I should talk to the manager, tell ‘em that they can stop tellin’ the staff to do that with me. He let his eyes scan the room then, flitting over the faces of the people at the other booths in search of one face in particular. He laughed to himself as he brought his glass back down to the table. They’d probably look at me like I had six fuckin’ heads.

It had been a few years since he’d chosen this location as a meeting place for a business contact, mainly because of the way things had unfolded after his last meeting there. Last time I sat in this booth I… He looked down and to his right at the empty cushion beside him. On Logan’s last visit, that space had been occupied by an attractive young man with captivating eyes with whom he’d planned to leave the hotel bar, had the Argos Initiative representatives he was meeting-if I can really call them that now that I know- not shown. He ran his palm over the dark leather upholstery. Can’t remember his name. Maybe I never even… It wouldn’t have been the first time Logan had gone to bed with someone without knowing what to call them. But I didn’t, not that night, not with him anyway. He closed his eyes and drew his hand back to the table, pointer and middle finger running up and down the stem of his glass before turning his head to the left, an involuntary frown forming as his eyes landed in the spot where William had sat on that last trip.

He closed his eyes and turned his attention back to the floor to ceiling windows before opening them again, the golden lights of the lounge’s chandeliers joining the countless others in his field of vision. He’s gone now, no use in… Though Logan had already run though every single second of his trip to the park with his former brother in law, chastizing himself for not taking control of the situation sooner- If I’d have just fuckin’ shot her, if I’d have dragged his ass home- he hadn’t gone back further than that in his “what ifs”. But now, sitting here where it all began, he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened had William not called it a night so early, had he been in the room with Logan when just a twitch of Angela’s finger had frozen the entire assembly of Hosts. He’d had to have seen it then. They’re not real, they’re...they’re not alive, they… With a sigh he trained his eyes on his glass as a string of tiny bubbles rose to the surface. If he’d have seen what I saw, felt what I felt, there’s no way he would have… I’d at least have seen it sooner, seen it before I brought him to the park and…

Fuck. He hadn’t wanted to think about that time, or the initial meeting with Argos. This trip was different not only because of what Logan had gone through since the last time he’d set foot in Singapore, but because of who he had with him this time- you. He’d been hesitant to bring you with him on this trip, not because he wasn’t sure of how he felt about you or because he wanted to take the lounge’s servers up on their offers to take care of whatever he needed, but because he wasn’t sure what being back in that place would be like for him, what feelings it might bring up. While this was a business trip, and you were a contracted Delos employee, that’s not all that this trip was, and he didn’t want it to be shrouded in the pain of his past. You knew everything that had happened, so it wasn’t that he wanted to keep anything from you. I just don’t want her to have to deal with this now. She shouldn’t. She deserves...she makes me...

His thoughts dropped off again as the face he’d been looking for finally emerged from the hall that led to the restrooms, and he felt his chest expand as he took a breath in through his nose, his mouth dropping open to let it back out. Damn. Teeth snapping back together as you moved toward him through the crowded room, Logan watched the amethyst and orange reflections from the city lights paint swatches of color across your white dress. The rush he got just from looking at you made him feel more alive than any Host could, no matter how lifelike they were, and your smile as you noticed him noticing you was enough to banish all thoughts of his last visit to the lounge.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to take so long there was,” you rolled your eyes. “Some poor girl was crying in the bathroom mirror so I,” you twirled your hand as you sunk into the seat next to him, your knee brushing his. “I talked to her for a minute and-”

But Logan didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, instead swallowing it with a kiss as one arm wound behind your back to pull you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry,” he spoke against your lips before pulling back to look into your eyes. “Just don’t go anywhere else.”

Your cheeks lifted into another smile as you brought one hand up to rake your fingers through his thick hair. Damn that’s… “That can be arranged, Logan.” You leaned in then, biting down gently on his earlobe and making him suck in a breath. “Unless,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his skin and raising goosebumps, “unless you wanna come with me.”

Oh she has no idea what she just… “Now there’s an idea.” He picked up his glass, emptying it down his throat as you winked and did the same, then grabbed for your hand. “C’mon.” He pulled you to your feet and then with another tug, dragged you into his side. “Lemme show you the rooftop. ‘F I’m gonna buy this place, I should at least give you a private tour.”

You hummed, a spark igniting in your eye as you rose on your toes to kiss him sweet and slow, drawing it out and making his heart race like no one else ever could. As the two of you made your way out of the lounge and into the elevator, Logan realized that his past wouldn’t haunt him anymore; that there was no longer any reason for him to hold on to the ghosts when there was so much life right in front of him.

Thank you a million times to all you fabulous artists! If you are an artist in the Ben Barnes fandom, or if you want to surprise an artist with a quick drabble, send me a message or link me to the piece of artwork that you would like me to write about. Let’s show these talented folks how much we appreciate them and the things that they create!

And if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please feel free to drop a line!

General Tags: @something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @malionnes @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @dearmarii @fific7 @traeumerinwitzhelden @obscurilicious @luminex3 @bisexual-space-slut @vetseras Logan Tags: @valkblue @belladonnarey @ymariejp @drinix @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman @qhostboyyy @ofgeneticperfection @delosdoll

#ben barnes fanart appreciation #ben barnes fan art #ben barnes fandom #pheedraws #the-blind-assassin-12 #logan delos fanart #logan delos fanfic #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #logan delos westworld #westworld fanart #logan delos deserved better and pheedraws said HE SURE DOES

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elriel-oblivion · 3 years

Text

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

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