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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call.

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for.

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do.

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change.

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of.

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off.

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same.

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer.

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different.

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument.

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be.

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more.

Love was never enough.

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car.

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings.

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore.

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him.

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment.

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him.

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point.

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you.

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no.

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this.

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you.

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child.

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you.

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname.

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago.

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night.

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang.

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss.

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again.

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life.

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop.

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue.

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.”

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone.

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily.

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less.

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was.

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him.

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again.

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker.

“I miss you Kookie.”

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine.

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #jeon jungkook #new

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Scream Therapy

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: extremely vague allusions to mental illness, metaphors about wounds, angst with a relieving ending, let me know if i’ve missed something

AO3 mirror

So you know those tiktoks where people go out into the woods and scream? Just like expel all the shit that’s been holding them down into an open field and let the earth reclaim all their dark, restless energy? Reveal the burdens that have been creaking in their joints and trapped in the prison of their ribs for the trees to swallow?

I’ve been thinking about that and Shigaraki a lot.

Like the rest of the league too, but mostly Shigs.

Just imagine:

It’s late, it always is when shit is going down at the hideout. The League of Villains is practically nocturnal at this point. Shigaraki’s mind is a loud place—lot’s of rabid, train tearing down the track lines of thought that clatter and roar and gush toxic coal smoke.

So as annoyed as he makes himself out to be, he doesn’t actually mind the din of the bar all that much. Twice and Toga chattering in the corner, random bits of too loud laughter and the clink of Kurogiri polishing glasses as he tells off Dabi for the umpteenth time about smoking inside—hell, even Compress rambling about the health benefits of high quality wine to nobody in particular is somewhat...comforting?

That’s not quite the right word, but their noise settles around him a bit like a thick quilt and dampens the rampage inside his head for a while.

He thinks about a lot of things.

Some good, most bad, all obsessive. He’ll get stuck in these loops sometimes, small questions evolve into bigger, more complicated webs, and suddenly it’s been four hours and he’s done nothing but stare at the same spot on the wall just left of his desktop monitor.

Sleep is a terrifying venture for much the same reason. Once he gets caught in that cycling it’s so hard to break out, and that’s when he’ll stumble down the stairs and sequester himself away at the end of the bar.

There he will sit and listen to the incessant white noise of his team—which is frustrating too but infinitely better than whatever anxiety coated sludge his brain will come up with if left to its own devices, so he bears it.

And then there’s you.

Who you are isn’t entirely important.

Maybe you’re just another member of the League, dedicated to helping your boss spread villainy across the city. Maybe you’re a morally ambiguous civilian who just stumbled in much like a stray cat into a depressed college student’s apartment and simply never left.

Whatever the circumstances, where you came from doesn’t matter.

To him, your contributions to the din are just another layer of insulation against the storm. He couldn’t really care less what you do, or where you go when you weren’t there. As long as your voice could offer a different type of grating against his ears than the silent throbbing of his head when he is alone, then your presence is justified.

Shigaraki only takes notice of you when you leave, when your voice is no longer adding to the uproar drowning out whatever new thought spiral he was trying to claw his way out of.

It’s very late then. That odd, in between time when it’s closer to the sunrise than to it’s setting but somehow also the darkest portion of the night. Of course, it’s never totally dark—not with all the light pollution laying an ever present, glowing haze across the horizon—but it’s as close as it gets out here to pitch black.

He catches the tail end of your coat, a glimpse of your shoe soles as you slip up the stairs and climb the wrought iron ladder that leads to the roof. Shigaraki often catches himself wondering how you figured out exactly how to avoid each board that creaked. He thinks sometimes it’s because you like going unnoticed, that too much attention makes you feel just as shaky as he gets when he’s been inside his head too long. Or possibly you just don’t want to wake anyone up in the rare moments that some League members are actually asleep.

Regardless, he watches you go and feels strangely...compelled to follow and because he rarely feels compelled to do anything unless it’s furthering the downfall of hero society, he does.

He takes an unsteady step, then another until the brisk, cusp-of-summer air is washing over him. It bites through his thin black top and the worn holes in his jeans, but the sting feel likes something.

And since he almost always feels nothing at all, it’s good.

You’re stood a few feet from the edge of the building, where the ledge has begun to crumble away from age and poor maintenance. The wind is strong enough that it makes your limp arms sway by your sides. Shigaraki is so thin now, he’s almost afraid for a moment it might blow him away. He’s found himself feeling so insubstantial as of late, it’s shocking when his feet don’t lift off from the roof entirely. He crosses the distance towards you slowly.

If you hear him approaching, you don’t show it.

Normally he wouldn’t start a conversation of his own volition but he did follow you up here and the silence is getting a bit deafening, even with the breeze.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

It’s simple, but it’s all he can think to say. Funny, with how many words that run through his head, he can never find the right ones when he wants them.

You turn then, and your face is...well it’s a face. He tends not to look at people’s faces much—doesn’t want to see their expressions when they look at him, but from what he can tell you aren’t upset that he’s here at least.

“I love the city at night.”

That’s all you offer in response and he knows somehow that you’ll keep talking even if he doesn’t answer. That you know how much he hates the quiet but can’t ever fill it himself.

“When you’re up high enough, you can pretend the streetlights are stars,” you divulge, as if it’s some sort of great, long kept secret.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you have a lot of secrets. You seem to him like the type of person who would. Who keeps life changing truths tucked under your tongue to drop suddenly over convenience store dinners and cheap beer.

He thinks that maybe he’d like to know them.

“It’s always so alive during the day, the streets I mean,” you continue, eyes trained out on the buildings below, tracing constellations from block to block. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s rotting too like….”

You trail off and don’t finish the thought, but you don’t have to. He knows what you mean: like the city is a wound that’s festering. That all the people and the heroes that corral them like cattle are just an infection waiting to spread.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, because he hasn’t been able to come up with anything else.

Your gaze flits over his face this time, and Shigaraki almost misses the small smile that plays at your lips. He’s close enough now that you could touch him, and you almost do, shoulders just inches away from brushing. But you don’t close the gap.

You touch the others, a lot actually, though he gets the sense you’re the type to ask first. And with his mind running on overdrive every waking second, he gets overstimulated easily. He should probably be thankful you aren’t as familiar with him. That you bother to notice the distance he keeps even when he rarely pays you any mind.

Maybe you’re thankful for that too.

“You know, scream therapy is a very effective and cheap alternative to professional intervention,” you say matter of factly in response.

He waits for you to continue and you do.

“There’s no one out this late but heroes on patrols and they won’t come to help us, so this is a perfect opportunity to give it a try.”

He can feel his brow knitting together and you raise your hand for a second as if to smooth your thumb over the wrinkled skin. Shigaraki doesn’t move, but watches your fingers pause in mid motion and drop back down.

There’s a strange charge in the air between you—a spark he distantly wishes would ignite if only so he could stop churning in his gut.

“How do you do it?”

He’s never asked so many questions of anyone in his life. But he finds he truly wants to know.

And you’re the one that can show him.

You breathe deeply beside him, letting your eyes drift shut and taking a step towards the ledge. With hands balled into righteous little fists, you bend a bit at the waist and you...scream.

Shigaraki isn’t quite sure what he’d expected, but for some reason it wasn’t that.

He’s heard shouts before, cries for help or out of fear, but nothing like this. The sound seems to bubble up from some deep, dank pit inside you and bursts forth from your mouth like a geyser spewing boiling water from the earth. It’s long and low and loudloudloud. It isn’t a sound he could ever imagine you making, but it rumbles in his chest as if it’s his own.

Just watching has a weight lifting from his shoulders.

You keep going even when he knows you should have run out of air. But you aren’t really making the noise, you’re just letting it escape. He’s not sure how he knows that but he does.

Your voice cracks and snaps and rages forth and you scream in a way he feels in his very bones. The garbled, awful sound is so clearly understandable despite the wind that carries it away.

It says: I am free and young and can feel none of it.

And then it’s words. Words that tumble from you in a torrent.

About your family, about what’s been done to you, what you’ve done to yourself.

About the lies and the injustice of it all.

You’re heaving by the end, deflated as though all the screams had left behind an empty space—an abscess drained and ready to heal over or fill back up.

“It’s your turn.”

Shigaraki stares at you, silhouetted by the dull, silver glow of the city and panting. You both look at each other for a moment, reveling in the odd connection that sometimes forms between strangers who know far too much about each other.

He doesn’t think he could top that, but the energy you’ve created is invigorating and he’s determined to ride the wave while he has it.

Taking a step, he joins you by the ledge again, and you back up as if allowing him into the spotlight. The wind will swallow whatever he says, it will eat the words like a starving behemoth and he finds himself ready to feed the beast.

He has to dig deep, scratch at old sores to make them bleed again, tear at scabs so he can let the contaminating thoughts leak out. Once he feels like he’s breached far enough, Shigaraki takes a breath.

And he screams.

His body doubles over with the strength of it, foot slamming down onto the roofing and four fingers fisted in the hem of his shirt.

It hurts coming out, rips at his vocal chords and has his throat raw to bleeding after just the first few seconds but he pushes past it.

He wonders if this is what a runner's high feels like, when you’ve pushed beyond the side stitches and knee aches and your blood finally rushes with all those elusive feel good chemicals he never has enough of.

Whatever it is, the feeling is addicting.

Shigaraki is dimly aware of you in his peripheral, encouraging the tsunami thoughts in his head to be thrust out into the uncaring arms of the city skyline.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to search for the words. They simply come. All his frustrations, some he wasn’t even conscious of, spill fresh and steaming like blood. Physically, his body remains but somewhere in the depths of his mind he is younger and hurt and alone and trying desperately to scream.

“I destroy everything I touch!” he roars at the apathetic, grey sidewalk below.

After the last word leaves him, he feels the same weightlessness he’d seen in the sag of your shoulders. The same snapping of the coil slack in his spine.

And suddenly, with this glorious, awful sense of revelation, Shigaraki realizes that everything in his head has gone quiet.

He’s over taken by a silence that requires no filling, a peace that he’d imagined only existed at the bottom of abandoned wells, far away from any chubby child’s hands that may toss foolish wishes down them.

He thinks about kissing you then.

And he knows now that this thought has always been there, but it was drowned like a subway rat in the aftermath of the hurricane brewing in his brainstem. He has always noticed you no matter how hard you try to blend into the background. Your voice has always been a bit better at shutting out the unending, worthless choir in his head.

He wouldn’t have followed anyone else up here—not Dabi, not Spinner, not Compress or even Kurogiri.

He can see that now. In this new enlightened state, everything is so much clearer. Though he is quickly thrust back into the present, into his body once again, as another kind of soft weight settles on his shoulders. Your coat is skin warmed and smells like you and everything he’s ever loved in his own screwy little way. He realizes then that you’ve been trying to talk to him this whole time.

“Shigs,” you call again and tuck the coat tighter around his shoulders, “you were shaking.”

Shigaraki nods, feeling relief from the cold he hadn’t quite been aware of till now. He’s not sure if you’ve ever addressed him so informally before, but he decides he likes the nickname.

It feels a bit like a gift.

“Better, yeah?”

He’s not really sure if it’s better, but it is different and it’s been impossibly long since anything has been different, so he thinks it must be good.

“Yes,” he says.

It’s a general yes, both to your question and to you, whatever that might mean. He doesn’t say anything more because he’s done enough talking and you nod like you understand.

Neither of you moves to leave the roof, but you do inch closer to him this time, closing the gap and tucking him into your side. Your arm is slung gently across his shoulders and he finds the weight of it relieving.

That seems like it shouldn’t make since but it does—a paradox of sorts, weight being a comfort.

Then the sun begins to rise and it’s as if he’s seeing you in a new light.

Your profile outlined by the stark daybreak rays, so horribly strong despite the scream he knows is forming again under the surface.

And Shigaraki wonders if you see him that way too.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #tomura shigaraki imagines #gender nuetral reader #slight manga spoilers #bee.writes

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

Hey! I have a fic/HC request - it's a bit specific - jake and Amy are on a date and they see a guy who went to the academy with Jake and worked with Amy at the 64 and when amy goes to the washroom he tries to make fun of her/says creepy stuff about het in front of Jake and he gets all angry and protective

“Gotta say I’m surprised.”

“About what?”

“That you got Santiago.”

Jake stares at Daniels over the rim of his beer glass. There’s a million instincts shouting in his brain, mixing into a little symphony. To tell him to fuck off, basically. Tell him he worked hard to ‘get the girl’, and continues to work hard to keep her. Tell him that whatever he’s got in his head about their relationship is probably far stranger than whatever he’s-

“Whyyyy~?” Is unfortunately all he manages to squeeze out inbetween anger, confusion and a bit of shock. It seems to be enough for Daniels, who guffaws.

“Well, no offense, Jakey, but you’ve been a detective for what, eight years now?”

“Eight and a half.”

“Amy Santiago needs more than a detective to keep her career floating.”

It had started out as a frankly lovely evening. It wasn’t date night, per se - just a random evening where they’d both found themselves out of the precinct earlier than expected, and Jake had spun Amy round on her heels once while holding her hand, grinning and asking if he could ‘take a lady for a drink’. (He was well aware that he did corny-romantic the best, and it usually worked with Amy. Like it did that night, making her giggle and roll her eyes and lead him down the streets to Shaw’s anyway.)

“I mean, that’s all she was about back at the 64. Going up the ladder. Nice girl, but jesus, her constant work chatter really pushed down her ratings.”

“Ratings.”

“Yeah.” Daniels grins and Jake tries not to think about punching those teeth out. “You remember from the academy, yeah? We set them all up during darts night. Much better than the 0-10 scale.”

“I never went to darts night.”

“Oh right.” Daniels sips on his beer. “You were always hanging out with that Rose biker chick.”

“Detective Diaz.”

And since it wasn’t established date night, and they were only having a beer each before they’d probably head home, it didn’t feel all that wrong to invite an old academy pal to their table when he bumped into him ordering at the bar. If it had been anyone from the 99, Amy would’ve probably done the same, and Jake was a bit too busy introducing him and laughing about the fact that they actually knew each other from Amy’s old precinct to notice her raised hackles.

“Diaz, sure, sure. Gotta tell you, if she wasn’t such a hardass bitch, she’d be a straight A.”

“Oh good, a letter rating system.” Jake groans through gritted teeth.

“Your Santiago, though...” Daniels leans onto the table with a wink, and Jake imagines his face crashing into it if he slapped the elbow he’s leaning on away. “She was a whole A+ at the 64th. Until she opened her mouth, and got into that whole career shit with the captain.”

He was not too busy, however, to notice her complete silence ever since Daniels had sat down - nor his clear disinterest in changing that, talking to Jake only, slapping his shoulder and recounting those ‘good old days’ Jake didn’t really remember the same way. Not too busy, either, to notice her jumping up ‘for the bathroom’ when Daniels started on their time in the 64th, and rushing through the rest of the bar patrons like something had stung her.

Jake sees red, and tries to blink it away. Unsuccessfully.

“Amy’s ambitious, and rightly so. She’s one of the smartest detectives we’ve ever had, and she’s gonna be a sergeant, lieutenant and captain before any of us even manage to get the first test topics into our brains.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, right.” Daniels grins and winks again, and the red turns into pure fire in Jake’s eyes. “With a bit of shmoozing, those tests are a doozy, I know.”

Jake’s hand slams onto the table so hard the guys next to them look over for a second, and Daniels’ beer topples over right into his lap.

“Hey, dude, what the fuck-”

Amy’s been in the bathroom for a good 10 minutes. Daniels chatter has turned from good academy pal to annoying classmate to ‘jesus fuck, I remember this douche, Rosa used his picture as her personal darts board’. He’s been talking about ‘Santiago’ as if she hadn’t been in the same room as them only minutes ago, and his face as Jake calls her his girlfriend says more than enough.

“You know jack-shit, you stupid piece of crap.” Jake snarls, and the guys next to them quickly shuffle away. “You’ve bumbled your way into your job by being a mediocre white guy with just enough racism and sexism in his brain to appeal to the same brand of assholes in higher positions, and now you think it’s okay to spew that kind of trash to anyone with a badge. Amy and Rosa are gonna wipe the floor with douchebags like you. Without the need for shmoozing, or rating systems, or whatever else fucked up shit you’ve been using to get where you are.”

“Listen, you gotta take a joke, man-”

“It’s not a joke, and I’m not going to listen to any of your shit for a second longer. You’re gonna take your beer-stained pisspants out of this bar, and if I find out you’ve been talking like that about any of my colleagues again, or talking shit to them, I’m pretty sure either Diaz or I still have some of those ‘fun’ graduation party pictures you probably don’t remember taking.” Jake’s fist is shaking, but his face is steadfast enough to convey the message (and it’s not a lie - he does know Rosa keeps a blackmailing backlog, and he’s well aware of the academy photos in there, right next to the folder of his own fuck-up proofs that she keeps throwing at his head if he ever tries to refuse one of her demands).

Daniels mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish trying to breathe out of water, before he sputters something that might be an insult, but gets up, so it doesn’t matter. He runs into a few other patrons as he leaves, two of which give him as clear of a stink eye as they give Jake a nod as he passes them, but he’s barely noticing them.

-*-

“....Ames?” Jake steps into the, luckily, uni-sex bathroom Shaw’s had decided on years ago, and finds only one of the stalls locked. “You okay in there?”

“S-sorry.” comes as an answer, and he knows her slightly stuffy voice after crying far too well not to recognise it even when reverberating through an empty bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I made Daniels leave.”

“...You did what?”

The stall door finally opens, and Amy’s red-rimmed eyes are looking at him almost confused as she clings to the handle.

“I told him to fuck off, basically.” Jake shrugs, but then takes a step forward, lays his hand as softly as he can on hers still gripping the doorhandle like it was a lifeline. “I’m sorry I let him barge in like that at all, and didn’t remember what a colossal jerk he actually is.”

“It’s okay.” Amy sniffs, and his hand on hers tightens. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have. Should have remembered how much he pissed me off in the academy already. And even if not, I shoulda noticed how uneasy you were with him straight away.”

“Yeah.” Amy only nods, and sniffs again before he can wipe another stray tear off her cheek. “Thanks, anyway. For getting rid of him.”

“Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum.”

“It’s good to encourage proper behaviour.” Amy tries a little grin even with a wobbly lip, and Jake answers it with a snort as she leans against him, finally letting go of the doorhandle to wrap him in a hug he gladly reciprocates.

“He wasn’t the worst of them, anyway.” She mumbles into his flannel shirt, and his arms around her shoulders grow tense.

“Alright, I’ll need a kill-list then. To hand over to Rosa.”

Amy snickers into his shoulder, but shakes her head.

“It’s okay. I don’t have to deal with them anymore. I’m at the 99 now.” She mumbles, and it sounds a little bit like she’s trying to remind herself of it, too.

“You’re with the 99 now.” Jake nods. “We take care of each other.”

Amy sniffs once more before looking up at him.

“Did we need to have this heartfelt moment in a bar bathroom?”

“Let’s go home, Ames. Before they make me pay for the beer I spilled all over the seats.”

“Wait, what?”

-*-

She’s deep asleep next to him, her hair all splayed out over the pillow since he played with it until she dozed off, her lips slightly open for that little, high, whiney noise she makes that he knows means she’s completely gone into dreamland.

He turns his phone screen’s brightness all the way down to keep her there before starting to type.

- Roger Daniels u remember him?

- what did the douche want. Do I need a new dartboard

- can we break him somehow

- why

- made Amy cry. probs for years

- gimme 2 days

Jake sends only a thumbs up before he slides down under the covers, Amy’s cold hands immediately finding their way around his waist as he shuffles closer to spread his warmth over to her side of the bed as well.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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beomglocks · 3 years

Text

friendly neighborhood spiderman ; hk

warnings & other: fluff, spiderman!hyuka, normal person!reader, best friend!kai, reader doesnt know kai is spiderman, he looks so good in that gif i cant move on

"what do you mean you can't hang out today? we always binge-watch power rangers on fridays."

you should've known it would come to this point but hueningkai bailing on you on your sacred days? completely unfathomable. he chuckles nervously and you watch him stumble over his words. "well there's always tomorrow?" he says, unsure of himself.

you were used to kai skimping out on you. if anything, it became somewhat of a normal occurrence. he would often randomly announce that something had come up and before you could even question him about it, he was gone. practically vanishing into thin air, you've grown used to his sudden disappearances. he would always come back as if nothing happened but with random scratches or bruises all over him.

for this, you took up the job of providing his aftercare. during these sessions in your dingy bathroom, you both would sit in silence for a couple of minutes. after the silence became too much to bear, you would speak up and ask him what happened or why he suddenly looked beat to a pulp. he would never tell you the real reason so you came to the conclusion that he was hiding something from you.

what that something was, was still a mystery to you.

he had to be hiding something from you. kai rarely ever got into fights. even at your college, where the majority of the student body were complete dickheads, he would keep to himself. on the off chance that someone ever wanted to start something, they would simply get intimidated by kai's height.

he sighs exasperatedly, "look y/n, just- it's just that th-."

"this is super duper important and you just don't have to means to skip out on it, i know i know," you reiterate his mantra like a drone. it's the same excuse every time.

he pats your head lovingly and you shake your head to brush his hand off. "whatever dude, just don't be mad when im 50 episodes deep and won't wanna go back for you." he laughs, rolling his eyes playfully, "you always go back for me."

you stick your tongue out at him as you watch him run out of your apartment.

you sigh, walking back to your living room and throwing yourself down on the couch. the silence in your apartment is deafening and unfortunately, kai is no longer here to fill the empty space. you frown, curling into yourself on your couch while switching back to the normal tv and flipping through channels.

you've always liked hueningkai. he was someone you've cherished since freshman year of high school. back then he was just some skinny kid who could barely hold his own. you had been the one to come up to him and befriend him but as it turns out he grew up.

you never thought you'd catch feelings for him but all of a sudden he had grown taller than you and his voice was an octave deeper than the cute, screeching boy you had first encountered.

you kept your feelings hidden well so far since you didn't know how kai would react. he wasn't really the type to have girls fawn over him but once arriving to college, almost everyone wanted him. it made you feel a bit self conscious considering he was this tall, ridiculously handsome guy and you were well...you.

you sigh once again. you hoped he wasn't ditching you to hang out with some college girl or go to some college party. maybe that's why he would come back home bruised up, going to some college party and doing some crazy shit there.

you pause your flipping through channels when you catch a glimpse of a guy in a red and black suit on your tv screen.

spiderman. you smile when you see him on your screen. you're lucky to have been born in the same era as a superhero. you've only ever really read about them in comics or seen cartoons of them but to live during the same time as one was something else.

it seemed as if there were new supervillains every other day but spiderman would always swoop in and save the day.

"there goes that spider menace again. he probably set up the whole situation just to make himself look good in the eyes of the public," james jonah jameson, the tv announcer, states.

"im telling you all! how can you trust a guy who's going around the city swinging on webs, fighting bad guys, and calling himself the spiderman?! he's the real villain!" some shaky cam footage of spiderman freely swinging through the city is played on screen and you smile at how carefree he looks. he keeps swinging until he reaches the main source of the situation and the footage switches to the news camera crew's line of sight.

they seem to be pretty close to the action and your breath hitches at who the villain who decided to show himself today is. sandman, and he looks pissed. he's throwing around stray cars and shooting sand at everything in his path. "where's spiderman!" he roars.

spiderman gracefully lands on his two feet right behind sandman. "you rang?" he jokes casually. sandman spins around wildly and wastes no time hurling some sand at the hero. spiderman narrowly avoids this but steadies himself for a serious fight.

you watch in awe at how cool spiderman looks while fighting. he looks so elegant as if he's dancing. the fight goes on for about 5 minutes and in those 5 minutes, both parties get beat pretty bad. spiderman who can barely stand straight is panting heavily since he just got up from being thrown into a wall.

sandman goes in for a couple more punches, some he misses however he gets some good ones in. "getting tired spidey?" sandman taunts. "you wish," spiderman croaks out. you watch him look around and luckily there's a fire truck near them.

spiderman uses his webs to bring the fire hose to him and you watch him use his last bit of strength to pull the latch that lets all the water out. sandman doesn't get the chance to dodge this and is effectively hit with the powerful blast of water from the hose.

the camera pans to sandman who is now on the floor, slipping away through the cracks towards the sewer. they then pan back to the wall where spiderman was leaning against but he's no longer there.

"ah another day, another win for our friendly neighborhood spiderman!" the tv hostess on the scene says. you sigh as the broadcast cuts back to james jameson spewing more slander on spiderman's name. "i hope he's ok, he looked pretty beat up," you say to no one in particular.

just then you hear a thump on your window. you live on the 12th floor of your building so realistically nothing should be hitting your window unless there are birds but it's a little late for them to be out and about. you cautiously walk over to your window and you see someones back? someone's back?

you unlatch your window and let it flip open. the person jumps up on your window sill in alarm, but once he sees you he calms down and throws himself onto your floor in exhaustion. you stand there in shock at who is on your living room floor right now. "spiderman?" you gasp. he groans out a reply but you don't care. spiderman is in your house right now! "i literally just saw you on tv! you were like so cool out ther-" you cut yourself off when you hear him breathing heavily.

"oh- oh my god ok uh-" you lift him up as best as you can and wrap his arm around your shoulder. spiderman hasn't passed out just yet so he uses a bit of his strength so that it's not a chore to drag him to your bathroom.

once you manage to drag him to your bathroom he throws himself onto the sink edge and leans back on your mirror with a sigh. "i can't believe you're in my house right now," you randomly blurt. he nods but says nothing as he points to his abdomen. "help," he grunts. you immediately go to the first aid kit that's always kept on deck since you're always patching up hueningkai.

he grabs the hem of his suit and lifts it up, displaying his torso. "woah," you instinctively cover your eyes thinking he was about to undress or something. you hear him chuckle softly. "relax."

when you lower your hands you see the nastiest scar on his lower stomach and you try not to stare too hard thinking it may offend him. "help me clean it please," he mumbles in pain. "i know i have healing powers or whatever but it's not gonna kick in rapidly unless i do some of the work myself."

you stare at spiderman in disbelief. "uh- i mean of course. i'd love to help, spiderman." he chuckles again at your eagerness, finding it cute.

"how'd you get to my window sill?" you say before you can think. you immedeintly slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to offend him somehow. he coughs somewhat awkwardly while looking around your bathroom.

"i- i mean the lights were on, the building was close...just a coincidence i guess?" he stammers through his sentence and rubs the back of his head. you bring your eyebrows together in confusion, "but i don't live that cl-" he cuts you off by grabbing his abdomen in pain.

"oh- OW! just please help," he wails.

you both sit in silence after that while you help patch him up and you get major deja vu except, instead of patching kai up you're patching up spiderman. you laugh at yourself and spiderman perks up. "what's so funny?"

"nothing it's just... i always go through this same routine with my best friend hueningkai," you say. spiderman nods off, "your best friend hueningkai?" you hum a confirmation, "yeah he's always running off and getting himself into trouble. i'm like his personal nurse."

spiderman leans back on your mirror again and you assume he's going to doze off or rest while you clean his wound but he speaks up again, "what's this hueningkai like?"

"he's really sweet. the sweetest boy i've ever met. he's a really good friend to me but i guess he's growing up, it feels like he doesn't need me anymore. he's always bailing on me to probably hang out with his cooler friends or something." you sigh and when the silence rings in your ears you realize you just rambled about your friend to a superhero.

"oh god im sorry i d-" spiderman shifts in his spot and let's out a breath. "maybe he's just busy? he's probably got a lot on his shoulders." you pout, dabbing the cotton ball onto the wound gently.

"i just- look i really like kai, like more than a friend. how am i supposed to get closer to him if he's always running off doing whatever!”

spiderman sits up straight in his spot, “you like me more than a friend?!” you look at him confused since you didn’t exactly catch what he said. “huh?”

“uh- i mean... well maybe he also sees you as more than a friend too, you never know,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“maybe..” you trail off uncertainty.

after you finish patching spiderman up he jumps off the counter and stretches his limbs. “wow i feel better already. you’re amazing,” he compliments. you hide your face in your hands shyly but smile up at him.

“it must be difficult saving the world from bad guys huh,” you joke. he nods, groaning tiredly, “you have no idea.”

you see him look over at your tv but since he’s wearing his mask you can’t really tell what his expression is or what he might be thinking. “right, you said you saw me on tv,” he chuckles.

“well thank you y/n for helping me get better, im sure i’ll be fine by tomorrow morning but for now ive gotta head back to shield to report what happened. you know superhero stuff,” he gloats.

you nod at him, amazed by how hard working he is but you look at him bewildered for the 3rd time today. “how did you know my name?”

he looks around frantically and scratches his head, “that cup over there says it!” sure enough when you look over, there’s a cup with your name printed on it. it happened to be a cup gifted to you from hueningkai last christmas.

you hear spiderman sigh, “well, gotta run! im positive i’ll be seeing you around.” he walks up to you and pats your head, something only kai is allowed to do but you let it slide for spiderman since he’s a superhero.

you follow him to your window where he prepares to jump out and swing back to shield. once he’s outside you yell out to him, “thank you spiderman!”

around three hours after spiderman left your apartment you hear your doorbell ring. they stopped playing the news about spiderman’s fight an hour ago so you decided to watch something else.

you groan dramatically, dragging yourself to your door. when you swing it open you see kai standing there with a smile on his face.

the drowsiness you previously had disappears when you see him. “oh my god kai you’ll never believe what happened to me!” you say excitedly. “hello to you too,” he laughs.

you drag him to your couch, “spiderman was here!” you shout. he raises his eyebrows at you, smiling wider. “wow really? was he cool?” you sigh dreamily, “he’s so cool kai.”

“wait you actually believe me?” you ask. he chuckles, looking away from you. “of course i believe you, why would you lie?”

you shrug, “i mean im not lying but if i was, i could’ve been lying to have you hang out with me more just in case i ever meet him again. you could meet him too.”

kai shakes his head, “y/n are you using spiderman as an excuse to get me to hang out with you more?” he laughs, “don’t worry i’ll hang out with you as much as i can.”

he pats your head again similarly to how he did earlier and you smile sadly, remembering spiderman’s words. hueningkai must be really busy and here he is promising to spend more time with you. this just makes you like and cherish him more.

you hug him tightly as a form of appreciation and he hugs you back with the same strength. when you pull away you look over his face and you’re about to say something when something catches your eye.

you lean in closer to his face and he inches back instinctively. “wha-“

“is that sand in your hair?”

#hueningkai imagines #hueningkai reactions #hueningkai drabbles #hueningkai drabble #hueningkai fluff #txt imagines #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #txt headcanons #hueningkai headcanons #txt reactions #txt scenarios #hueningkai timestamps #hueningkai fic #hueningkai x reader #fluff

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hxney-lemcn · 3 years

Text

Excuse Me What? — Five Hargreeves x fem! reader

Summery: Reader is the only thing that can stop the apocalypse, what will they do?

tw: Swearing

a/n: I might make this a little personal au of mine. Gif Cred: @numberfivesss

wc: 1.8k

Main Master List | TUA Master List

I watched what I normally do when my family is out of the house. I was also reading fanfiction, so I was currently multitasking. It felt like any other day. Then the doorbell rang. I felt the anxiety crawl through my skin. I was always taught to not answer the door (unless it’s a known order like pizza or something). So I ignored the ring and continued to watch the show/video/movie.

Then something unusual happened. I heard a woosh like noise as well as footsteps. I felt my heart start hammering in my chest at the thought of a stranger currently being in the house with me. I quickly pulled up 911, but before I could call something unreal happened.

My bedroom door opened revealing Five Hargreeves. Wait...or would it be Aiden Gallagher? But Aiden would not just show up in a random person’s house like this. Five doesn’t exist though! Oh jeeze what the hell is going on. This has to be a dream right? But I’ve never had a dream this concise before. I couldn’t seem to speak or even breath as we just stared at each other.

“Good,” He spoke up. “You’re here. Get dressed we have to go.” My mind reeled as I couldn’t seem to process what the fuck was going on.

“Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?” I questioned, trying to hide my slightly shaky hands.

He rolled his eyes while muttering, “We don’t have time for this.” He sighed and gave me a strained smile, “I’ll explain on the way, okay?”

“B-but my parents-”

“You’re parents won’t be here much longer if you don’t just come with me,” He glared. I gulped but stood up.

“Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll change really quickly.”

After I changed, we got into the car.

“So who are you?” I asked.

“Five,” He replied.

“Five Hargreeves?” I asked meekly glancing at his stoic face.

He shot me a look of surprise and distrust before saying, “How do you know that?”

“Uhm!” I said feeling a small blush form on my cheeks. I have literally been obsessing over the old, caffeine addicted male for I can’t even remember how long. I couldn’t just tell him that though! Let alone that his and his siblings lives are a Netflix show that I’ve watched more than once. “Wait is there an apocalypse happening?” I asked with great concern looking over to him quickly. He glanced at me again, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Shit,” Five muttered, eyes widening. “You work for the commission don’t you, this whole thing was a trap.”

“Wha?” I sounded out with wide eyes. “No way! I’m too unfit for the Commission anyways. I can barely walk up stairs without losing breath.”

“Then how do you know so much,” He continued.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” I sighed.

“Try me,” Five replied pulling into a parking lot for a...abandoned Blockbuster? I thought they were all wiped out. Whatever. Five parked the car and turned to me with a calculating gaze.

“What if I said you are a character from a show I watched along with all your siblings,” I spewed out quickly, not making eye contact. I noticed his eyebrow furrow as he processed what I said.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well I mean it was also a comic, though I still have to read that,” I rambled on but stopped myself. “There’s a show called The Umbrella Academy where you try to stop the apocalypse twice, season three still has to come out though.”

I fidgeted with my hands as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be amused with himself as he said, “The Commission would never make such a ridiculous story, okay let’s continue then.��

“Hey!” I shouted as he got out of the car. “It may be ridiculous but it’s true!” I scrambled out of the car as I followed behind him. “And you never answered my question!”

“Well if what you say is right, then you probably already know,” Five shrugged. We entered the Blockbuster and my heart dropped at his smooth words. I forgot this was basically a daily thing for him, but I, on the other hand, was used to my mundane and normal life. Yeah I’ve read fan fic that had this scenario, but I never thought it would actually happen! I took a few deep breaths as Five took out a oh so familiar briefcase, yet it looked a little modified.

“Wait,” I stopped to which I could tell I was definitely starting to irritate him. “What do I have to do with this?”

“Let’s just say you don’t belong here,” Five said mysteriously and I became even more confused. What does he mean? All I can remember is growing up and living my life here, no time stuff, no weird fantasy stuff, just...a normal life. Before I could ask another question he glared at me, “Like I said, I’ll explain everything later, just come with me.”

For all I know he could be leading me to my slaughter. Yet knowing Five, he only would’ve killed me if he needed to and he would’ve done it right away. Plus this was my literal dream, so might as well enjoy the ride. Five grabbed the suitcase, knowing that I had to touch him so we both can go, I held onto his shoulder which tensed under my touch. Within a blink we were engulfed in a blue light. Then we were standing in the Hargreeves mansion. Holy fuck, if this was a dream please don’t wake me up.

Five seemed much more relaxed now and walked over to the bar in the parlor room. I followed him like a lost puppy, I mean where else would I go? He set the briefcase down and started to make a drink. I felt a little awkward but I still had a ton of unanswered questions.

“Five,” I called out and he didn’t even bother to turn around. “C-could you now explain what’s going on?”

“Yeah yeah,” He sighed out. “Have a seat.” I sat down on the barstool next to him and he offered me a drink. You know what, might as well. I accepted the drink with a small smile and we clinked our glasses.

“The Commission took you when you were a baby,” Five began explaining. “They took you from this dimension and took you to a different one. The Handler seemed to enjoy chaos and you being in that dimension affects ours gravely.”

I took in this information and whispered out, “No one is insignificant.” Five raised an eyebrow in question and I responded, “A quote said by you.” He nodded and a smirk formed on his lips.

“So you quoted me before?” He asked, his ego seemed to expand a bit.

Then I remembered all the times me and my friend would shout ‘I’M THE DADDY HERE’, which technically we were quoting him. I felt a smirk overcome my face as I gave him a sly grin.

“Wanna know your most popular quote?” I asked resting my elbow on the bar table, also resting my head.

“Sure,” He replied taking a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving my figure, which internally flustered me.

“I’m the daddy here!” I shouted out giggling after like a madman. Suddenly the familiar brother of Five that I loved possibly even more than Five entered.

“Five what type of party are you having-” Klaus stopped in his tracks and stared at me. “You have a girl over!” Five let out a sigh and took an even bigger sip of his drink. I felt my inner fangirl try to consume me as I bit my lip.

“Hi,” I squeaked out and Five glared at Klaus.

“Hello,” Klaus replied with a smile. “So how did you meet my dear little brother?”

“Long story,” I smiled awkwardly.

“I got time,” Klaus smiled sitting down on a stool next to me, grabbing a drink that Five previously made. So I explained everything, from being from another dimension, to the fact they were a tv show where I was from.

“Who’s your favorite?” Klaus asked eagerly with a childlike excitement.

“That’s a tough question,” I groaned out. “Either you, Ben, Vanya, Allison, Diego, or Five.”

“That’s all of us,” Five pointed out. “Besides Luther.”

“Yeah I know,” I shrugged sipping my drink. “I can’t choose.”

“Why not Luther?” Klaus asked genuinely curious.

“The whole ‘dad sent me to the moon’ stuff irritated me, I liked him a little more in season 2,” I explained. “Yet Diego was really getting on my nerves in season 2 with the whole JFK thing. Also when everybody ignored how much Five went through seeing you all die so many times like ugh-”

Five cut me off with a warning tone, “(Y/n).” Klaus seemed surprised by what I just said and I let out a cough nervously.

“Sorry about that,” I let out a nervous laugh as Five gave me a murderous glare. “Didn’t mean to...say all that.” Klaus looked between Five and I, a tiny smirk forming on his face. Oh no, this wasn’t going to be good.

“So you know a lot about Five huh,” Klaus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I know a lot about all of you,” I shrugged. “Some stuff you guys might not even know about yourselves, or maybe that’s just me assuming stuff, who knows?”

“Tell me something about Five,” Klaus persisted.

“Don’t,” Five spoke out.

“I won’t,” I agreed. “The stuff I ‘know’ is kinda personal and I don’t wanna say stuff that may not be real either.”

“Awe,” Klaus pouted. “No fun.” Klaus stood up and walked away, “See ya!” Then it became awkward between Five and I. He stared at his drink as I kept giving him glances. Then realization hit me, where will I go? I don’t have friends or family, and I don’t have a job or money. Am I even a resident of the United States here? Oh god now I’m panicking.

“Hey Five?” I whispered out.

“Hm?” He questioned out, alerting me I gained his attention.

“Where will I go?” I asked. He looked at me in confusion. “I don’t have any money, or a job, or no where to stay.”

“I didn’t expect you to go anywhere for a bit,” Five shrugged like it was obvious. “We have to find your birth information along with your social security card, then you can get a job and whatever you want from there.” I felt my heart thump as the thought of Five actually caring enough to not kick me to the street filled my head.

“Y-you don’t have to,” I stuttered out staring into his eyes.

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not cruel enough to kick you out with nothing.” I felt a tiny smile make it’s way onto my face, never in a million years did I think any of this would happen, yet it was.

“That’s very sweet of you,” I said sending him a smile. He looked away and continued to consume his beverage.

“Don’t tempt me,” He growled and I giggled.

“Okay old man,” I grinned.

#tua #the umbrella academy #five #five hargreeves #fivehargreeves #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #fivehargreevesxreader #x reader #xreader #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #five hargreeves imagine

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sumukhcomedy · 3 years

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Joe Rogan is a Joke Thief

On February 10, 2007, Joe Rogan confronted Carlos Mencia at The Comedy Store over Mencia stealing jokes from many comedians. I had been doing stand-up comedy for less than a year and, along with Michael Richards’s notorious performance at The Laugh Factory, these were the pinnacle “viral” moments of that year. In 2007, Mencia had more popularity than Rogan. The incident led to Rogan being banned from The Comedy Store at the time.

Flash forward now 14 years and things are dramatically different for both Rogan and Mencia. Mencia has been outed as a joke thief and perhaps a sociopath and his career has never been the same as he travels around the country doing shows that last long enough that comedy club staffs are likely falling asleep. Rogan, on the other hand, has become the most influential comedian in the business to the point that somehow he was considered a legitimate debate moderator by former President Donald Trump.

How did we get here? How did Joe Rogan go from being a man that stood up for joke authenticity and the “code” of stand-up comedians to a man encouraging you to not get vaccinated and giving a platform to voices that are everywhere from conspiracy theorists to flat out racists?

Rogan’s rise from basically the host of a show where people eat disgusting stuff to an actual influential political voice is admirable. He was on the forefront of comedy podcasts and his The Joe Rogan Experience aligned perfectly with the rise of UFC and his status as a commentator with that sport. In its early days, The Joe Rogan Experience was an impressive show. I was amazed at Rogan’s ability to have an engaging conversation that led to podcast episodes lasting sometimes over 3 hours. But, with the right guests, the listener didn’t get bored. That’s a skill in a medium where 1 hour is usually sufficient before a listener starts tuning out a voice or subject matter. Rogan brought on his quality friends in comedy or even within UFC and had conversations specific to those topics. Sure, he’d have the occasional alien talk with some sort of expert in that field or would get inquisitive about mind-altering drugs, but for the most part, it was a grounded, casual conversation.

At some point, things went off the rails. Part of that came with Rogan, for reasons that are unclear to me, no longer taking responsibility for what was being said on his podcast as if he was unaware of its huge popularity. The early days of The Joe Rogan Experience were over. No longer could Rogan simply have casual conversations with his guests, be “too high,” or any other such relaxed excuses especially as Rogan began to discuss far more serious issues in the political and social spectrum and doing so with guests completely unqualified to be talking about those subjects. Rogan’s guests included his certain stable of comedians from Tom Segura (hilarious) to Tony Hinchcliffe (WTF?) to Brendan Schaub (he is not a comedian). And, yet, Rogan continued to do that. He continued to have free-flowing conversations with no fact-checking under the idea that it is comedy but was actually having a serious, influential impact on his hardcore fan base.

This is, depending upon who you ask, more insulting and offensive than the joke theft Rogan so prided himself on exposing. Forget Denis Leary dancing on Bill Hicks’s grave. Forget Mencia taking a small, hackneyed joke from Ari Shaffir. This is now as if Leary is telling you not to vaccinate yourself based off no facts. This is now as if Mencia gives a stage to racists and anti-trans speech without any counterpoints. Rogan has become worse than what he supposedly once stood for in the comedy community.

The disciples of Rogan who have no doubt found success due to their connection to him and his podcast only have continued the lack of responsibility. Bryan Callen and Brendan Schaub toured during the pandemic spreading COVID-19 to themselves and others while spreading conspiracy theories on the topic. Andrew Schulz’s Netflix special (which I admit I’ll never watch) apparently contains a bunch of material lacking facts and blaming China for COVID-19. Chris D’Elia took no real accountability for his sexual misconduct, chalking it up to addiction and thus insulting all addicts in the process of trying to resurrect his career. And then there’s Tony Hinchcliffe who recently was simply racist towards his host (a.k.a. co-worker) on a show in Austin.

When you offer no rules to individuals lacking rules to begin with, you bring out all the worst of the Wild West components to comedy. Lenny Bruce may have opened the door but now Joe Rogan is shitting on it. Yes, it’s amazing to have “free speech” but if we take no responsibility for what we say and do no research on what we’re speaking on, then comedy might as well just be a lunatic screaming on a park bench. And, in some ways, it has become that. There are no punchlines, just random insults with no actual joke structure. Give Mencia credit. At least he stole jokes that had punchlines. Rogan is just endorsing garbage to be spewed under the guise of comedy.

It saddens me because I actually like Rogan but I like a Rogan from another era in comedy. I like a Rogan that stood up for the younger comedians. I liked a Rogan that stood up for the ethics of comedy. I also like a Rogan who is an intelligent, analytical UFC commentator who clearly knows his stuff on mixed martial arts. That Rogan has taken a back seat to whatever he is now as a podcast host and political influencer. Now this Rogan is the one that punches down, is one that makes no effort with his mind or with his humor, is one that honestly will keep the money rolling in for the more ridiculous, the more inaccurate, and the more controversial.

To this day, just as I did when I started doing comedy in 2006, I research what I talk about in my jokes. It’s important to me that, given the opportunity to have a stage, I provide an audience with accurate details related to my humor. It’s a matter of authenticity and it’s a matter of respect. But with the nature of how comedy is operating now where the lines have become so blurred that the satire has now become the actual comedian, that kind of responsibility and mutual respect is disappearing. I’m actually more incentivized to spew inaccuracy, hate, and confusion. How that is considered beneficial for society and entertainment is beyond me but I suppose that’s what happens when you operate more on “clicks” than laughs and more on “freedom” than responsibility.

Joe Rogan was once the stalwart for the code of stand-up comedy and its ethics. He’s now a podcast host that’s defied everything he once was.

#joe rogan #tony hinchcliffe #stand up comedy #comedy #carlos mencia #bryan callen #brendan schaub #ufc #mma #joe rogan experience #podcast #podcasts

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years

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captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 2: college au

summary: set in early 2021 in the same universe as the previous entry. the pandemic is not over yet. america as we know it is on the brink of collapse. now that anna is in the air force academy, allen can finally go to college himself. except that everything is online cause social distancing.

notes:

this fic is the closest to reality among everything else i've written. i don't have 2021 vision, but this is what i imagine what things will be if america continues being like this in everything.

i know the space force as an independent branch of the us military is still a fairly new concept, but let's just assume that they need people so desperately that they'll pull prospecting cadets onto the path to space starting from their academy years. they used to be a branch of the air force anyway, right?

tags: brief mentions of childhood neglect and parentification

----

The high-pitched hum is driving Lou crazy, so he turns on the speaker on his laptop and plays some potato peeling ASMR to give the house some other noise. The hum disappears, but seeing the Slavic guy peeling potatoes makes him want to cook again, and cooking for himself...just sounds depressing. Not that he hates cooking alone - he takes pride in being able to prepare his own food and be good at it - but he doesn’t have much of a choice in raw ingredients; he stocked up when it was announced that a large storm is coming, and all he has is canned food - hardly something he would prepare for Anna had she been here.

He switches tabs, discovering that his new lecture is still downloading, and lets out a groan. Fucking blizzard locking him in and fucking with the internet. Now he can’t even study when he’s snowed in in his own house - yes, his own fucking house, because his Papa apparently can’t stand Alaska anymore after his wife disappeared and fucked off back to France as soon as he could, leaving his property (which had been his wife’s) to his children to distribute between themselves, and Lou, being the only adult during that time, became a homeowner. Sighing, he goes to his email and drafts an apology.

Professor, am snowed in. Internet slow. Can’t stream lecture, so tried downloading. 5 hrs in, only 70% downloaded. Requesting deadline extension. L. W. Allen

He sounds like Anna in this one, thoughts going so quickly that she omits pronouns and ‘the’s and ‘a’ or ‘an’s while she’s typing. Except that he’s typing slowly with his non-dominant hand while scooping cooling mashed potato into his mouth with his other hand. Damn it, he misses his sister.

The potato peeling video is over and he still is not sleepy, so he goes over the lectures he has downloaded and chooses the one he remembers being useful in writing his paper to be his new background noise. The drone of his professor’s voice makes him think of Anna rapid-firing her thoughts while she’s doing his homework for fun.

Everything comes back to Anna.

His Skype jumps with an incoming call, and he accepts it without reading who that is, acting in desperation for company good or bad.

‘Allen here.’

‘Lemme guess: you didn’t read the description.’

Lou is so relieved to hear his sister’s voice that he nearly cries. ‘How the fuck did you do that? It’s midnight on your side.’

‘I’m different, Lulu, haven’t you heard?’ Anna dismisses her brother’s question, proud as always. ‘Snowed alone in the house must be hard.’

He laughs. This is ridiculous. ‘Yes it is. How did you know that?’

‘You talking about the snow part or the lonely part?’

‘Both.’

‘I’m not completely cut off from the rest of the world. I read the weather forecast and report, and I lived with you and only you for four years. Enough time to discover a pattern, I should say.’

Lou takes the laptop and flops down onto his bed. ‘We haven’t been apart for longer than a day back then.’ Placing his Bluetooth headphones over his head, he lies down on their bed - his bed now - and allows himself to imagine that this is just one of their many pillow talks about nothing and everything. Oddly, he can’t imagine his sister doing the same.

‘It’s called logical deduction, bruh. Then her voice softens. ‘You spent most of your life taking care of me. I’ve got planes to fly, programs to write, labs to blow up and muscles to flex. You get to listen to some boring old man spew bullshit about our minds as if the theories he teaches aren’t outdated as hell.’

It puts a smile on Lou’s face. ‘I don’t think they’ll let you stay for long if you blow up too much shit in the lab.’

‘Details, Lulu, details. Hey - check your time.’

Lou squints at the corner of the screen where the clock should be. 17:58. ‘Fuuuuck,’ he groans. Of course Anna’s awake - it’s just 19:58 on her end. ‘Fucking storm fucking with my sense of time.’

‘Hail English,’ says Anna. ‘Though not as elegant as our father tongue. How’s the French club going on?’

‘I’m developing abs from laughing too hard. There’s one fine but thin line between normal conversation and random-ass flirting, but they don’t seem to grasp it.’

‘Not everyone has an incompetent French dad who barely speaks English but moved to America anyway.’

‘Very true,’ Lou admits. Anna turned up fine even with only minimal parental guidance, but at what cost? Himself, probably, except that he seems fine as well. ‘How about you? How’s the Academy been treating you?’

‘It’s not official but,’ Anna lowers her voice as if she wants to keep it secret, ‘I’m most likely going to be in the Space Force when I graduate.’

Lou coughs to mask his laughter. Of all the things his sister is skeptical of, the Space Force set up by that orange isn’t one of them. ‘No offence, Anna, but Space Force? Seriously? A woman of your talents?’

‘I should tell them that their efforts are successful,’ says Anna. ‘Hold on.’

Footsteps. A slam of a door. Some scratching noises, and when she turns on her camera, it shows not her face but the screen of her phone. It started as a joke, it writes. They admit to that. But something happened in the scientific field. Something so unbelievable and classified that they sobered up instantly and begged for more funding from the federal government.

‘America as we know it is ending,’ Lou points out. Sure, they didn’t let the orange continue representing the country, but the harm has been done, the virus comes back every few months and before the previous batch of patients are freed up, and everything is failing - the economy, the already-problematic medical and healthcare system, the old order governing the country for two centuries. It is terrifying but, in Lou’s opinion, a much-needed change for America to go forward. ‘You’re more familiar with them than me, but they might be doing it to preserve the old order. You know, before they lose all the power they currently have.’

Anna takes the phone away. ‘I highly doubt it,’ she says as she continues typing. ‘They’re used to whatever we now have. They already expect some things to change;’ she holds up her phone again; but not in the way shit’s going. ‘You heard about the declassified document on Alec Ryder? The guy who tried to write an advanced AI and developed it into some highly illegal and sci-fi-y shit that he can’t control?’

‘Didn’t read the whole thing. Sounds unbelievable, though, letting an AI control your body. And I thought Elon was stupidly crazy.’

‘Well, for some reason they’re still on high alert about the whole shitshow even though the AI was supposedly destroyed,’ she puts her phone away and switches off the camera. ‘Call it my instincts if you wish. Something big is coming and I’m not sure if I like it.’

Lou takes a deep breath. Anna has always said that America needs to change, but if she thinks that she won’t like it… ‘Let’s don’t speculate anything right now, okay?’ he tries to rationalise. ‘We can’t do much right now, can we?’

‘True.’ A creak. Some muffled conversation. ‘Look, I need to go now. Try not to freeze your ass off at home.’

‘With that nasty generator you built? Don’t think so. Take care.’

‘Same for you.’

The call disconnects. Taking off his headphones with a trembling hand, Lou quits the application and checks again how much longer he needs to wait for the lecture. A few minutes left. Standing up and popping all the joints in his body in preparation, he goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water to clear his head.

If he’s gonna be stuck in this house for days, he at least can use the time for some studying, right?

----

spoiler: anna’s instincts are right.

the potato-peeling video

#allen art week #allen appreciation #dbh allen #detroit: become human #allenartweek #allenappreciation #groom lake aftermath

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Thank you again and still for all the help and support! I really truly can not imagine making it through the past couple days without it, considering I spent most of it awake and in the bathroom puking from the constant migraines that come with your head not being happy about its bones not being in the right place. Stress aggravates them, or at least my awareness of them, and because of how little work there is currently and how expensive being broke and disabled in LA is, let’s just say, there’s been stress, lol.

I’m feeling a bit better today, or at least I’m making myself pretend that and act like that since I’ve got another appointment at that clinic where I get my juicy and tasty IV bags of nutrients pumped into me since I barely even CAN eat, physically, which combined with the lack of sleep and the nausea, like, also not a great combination.

So, I mean it when I say your donations and support have absolutely been invaluable, everything from a couple dollars to an anonymous message, like, its all amazing and appreciated and invaluable. Yeah. I already said that, whoops, anyway, BUT I DIGRESS.

That’s about all of an update I have there, lol, so in other news, I should be around more today since like I said, I’m feeling a bit better and have possibly plateau-ed on this latest pain level. (My super-annoying superpower....ever since I was a kid I’ve been able to adapt to increases in pain like a pro. As in, being able to manage/function despite it. Course, I still feel it, but give me a day or two to adjust to a new norm in how much my body hates me currently, and then I can power through).

So, like I said, I should be around more today, and I’ll probably be random as hell. Like I’ve mentioned before, my blog is where I spew literally everything from inane thoughts to fandom feels, since its like.....my only social outlet these past couple years and the only way I get to interact with people who aren’t doctors. Expect no pattern in topics until I find whatever sticks and keeps me focused on it enough to serve as a distraction from, y’know, the broke body and broke bank account.

SO! Absolutely feel free to hit me up about anything and everything. ESPECIALLY if you’ve made a donation or sent me something. Like, I know some people who have sent money don’t even follow me or know me at all and are just generous spirits who saw my post somewhere, but for any of you who have sent any kind of support just cuz you like, like me and my rambles, lol, totally feel free to drop into my messages even on anon and say what kind of posts or content from me you really engage with and would love to see more of. I can’t make any promises or guarantees, unfortunately, given I didn’t expect or plan on crashing so hard these last couple days, bleh, and just....literally, like, writing more of the kind of stuff or posts people who have helped me stay alive is pretty much the only way I have of kinda giving at least something back, so I mean, I am happy to pounce on anything in that direction.

Again, just can’t make any guarantees given how unpredictable my life is and depending on how many people send requests or prompts or messages, etc, but I don’t delete anything of that nature and I usually get back around to stuff EVENTUALLY. For instance, I’m REALLY hoping to finish up two one-shots today, one that’s focused on Duke, Dick and Cass from that prompt you sent me a couple weeks ago, @zee-gee, and the other uh.....that umm, TW/X-Men fusion you commissioned way longer ago than my pride will allow me to admit in public @camelotpark, lol. And like, those posts you see me making to @russianspacegeckosexparty about the changelings project I talk about a lot, like.....Adam basically just sends me random thoughts and prompts about it all the time, and its like a running thread that’s easy for me to pick back up and sink into whenever I see a new one in my inbox and I’ve got enough spoons at the moment to dig in.

Also have a couple other things I want to respond to today while I have the energy and a destined-to-be-longer-than-it-needs-to-be meta about Dick’s positioning in narratives with various other characters and WHY I think it so usually works out that way, and I’m aiming to keep that more like....musing-esque than rant-errific, but uh, let’s see how that actually goes, lmfao.

Anyway, that’s what I have in mind for today, aside from my going to get my IV buffet at ten and emailing and calling people from listings about rooms to rent, but tbh, I might just end up being even more random and sporadic than usual, if I can’t focus on any of those long enough to stay sufficiently distracted today. (Like, my other annoying superpower as long-time followers have heard before, is my ridiculously fast metabolism. I know, “oh no, I’m so skinny, poor me,” but like....its never been about weight gain or loss for me, its about how fast my body processes various medications, meaning pretty much every painkiller I’ve ever tried is largely useless to me, or at most wears off in a couple hours.....whereas my ADHD meds actually provide me MORE relief from the pain than any of them. Basically, they let me actually focus on something OTHER than pain and not get interrupted/distracted by the occasional pain spike that likes to remind me its there and wants my attention......so I mean, I still feel everything that comes with my head being physically out of whack, but for the hours vyvanse is working for me, coupled with some heavy duty pain meds, I can like.....just sorta....not care about it for awhile. Like, it hasn’t gone away but its more shoved to the back of my mind at least. And all of that, I’m happy to stuff in a closet whenever I can, lol).

And that’s enough rambles for this post, I think. LOLOLOL, as if I have a quota. But yeah. Just wanted to express how much your support has meant and continues to mean, and like.....I’m still here and alive and crossing fingers that I’ll hear about an actual surgery date soon, but in the meanwhile like......I’m kinda stuck in a perpetual Limbo, one that’s largely confined to whatever is in hobbling distance from my bed of the day, and as much as donations help me physically, in remaining able to at least stay that way, just, any and all interactions on here help by keeping me engaged with the world on at least some level, and make it so I have stuff to think or talk about beyond my own situation and how I’m not a super huge fan of that.

(Okay, I shouldn’t say any and ALL interactions are appreciated, since I have my fun little runs of anon hate in my inbox, but I mean, all of the above is why they’re not really a big deal to me and never have been. Its like, dude, my own body has been trying to take me out for the past three years, and you think a few insults from an anonymous stranger are gonna do the trick? LOLOL, please. Tbh, the only real negative effect anon hate has on me is that it makes me a bit more snappish and quick to assume the worst than I’d like, when people @ me in a way that I misread as aggressive or in bad faith. I’m aware that my day-to-day temperment is a lot more irritable and open to fights than I usually like to be, as self-control is kinda a big deal to me, and my situation and stress and other shit kinda keep me constantly operating at a level best described as itchy, and none of that is an excuse for any times I read an interaction wrong and go for the throat. I just mean like.....I’m a very blunt and straight-forward person, and I do appreciate when people take a similar approach to me as it really helps keep those misreads to a minimum. Any time someone wants to engage with me in some way, I promise I am SO much easier to talk to if you just....put it out there, whatever it is. Its the games people play online (and in real life) that just frustrate the hell out of me and...yeah. Again, I’m not saying any of that as an excuse or a request for a free pass any time I fuck up an interaction or cross a line, I’m just saying, if anyone’s held back on interacting with me because they think I might snap at them or mistake it for them trying to start a fight, like......just be direct with me. Honestly, thats just....always gonna be more productive when it comes to me.)

But yeah. So that’s the current state of me and all that jazz. Again, I so appreciate everything everyone’s done to support me, not just these past couple days but over the course of these past three years as well. I notice and remember all of it, and its why even though I rant and complain and am critical about so much in society and fandoms and all that.....I really truly am a believer in the idea that there’s more good in people and the world than bad, and the bad just tends to be louder is all. It was especially loud for me the last couple days, the volume got way jacked up, but the goodwill from you guys has been more than enough to drown it out and give me some reprieve.

Alright, shutting up now. All done. The end.

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ellas-cottage · 5 years

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If you want a 968 word essay on where i stand on fat acceptance as an aspiring health professional, you’ve come to the right place.

edit as of 2022-06-08: L post + L positions + no longer want to be in the medical field + gained the weight back + wrote this when i struggled with disordered eating

If you dont then i have a little rant on self care at the end, so thats crunchy.

Okay. So listen, I don't often make my own posts. And when I do, they get like one note, so it doesn't matter. I mostly just reblog random shitposts from people or memes, or their opinions, that vaguely line up with mine.

But a few days ago, I had a very interesting encounter with someone that I shan't name-drop, because I'm a very decent person, you know, but that person has a very, very warped image, I would say, of what I think. So, since I am a dumbass, and I do not know privacy from my own ass, I basically have my future job in my bio (which is trauma surgeon or paramedic, depending on what I choose), but, I also have “anti-fat acceptance” or “anti-Health at every size”, or both, I don't know: I'm not in Tumblr right now. And, that person seemed to have a problem with that with the fact these two things do not align (in their opinion).

And let me tell you why they absolutely fucking align.

I am anti fat acceptance. I'm not anti fat people. Which is very different. Fat people are literally just fucking people. Now, I don't like people, but that's completely unrelated to their weights, to their sex, or their fucking gender, whatever the fuck they decide to identify as; you can be fucking plantkin and I'll still love you if you have a good personality. I could not care less especially about your weight. What I care about, on the other hand, are people who make the dumbest. Fucking. Excuses. to justify their bad lifestyle choices. Now these are the people that I have a problem with. If you make excuses to your grandmother at Christmas because she tells you that you've put on a few fucking pounds that's none of my business. What is my business, however, is when a person uses their public platform to spew bullshit facts about health, to impressionable people, especially impressionable young people such as fucking 12 year olds on this goddamn hellsite; that is what I have a problem with.

These people should not have to suffer the consequences of your misinformation.

Just because you're 25, and 250 fucking pounds, and you haven't had a heart attack yet doesn't mean you'll live to see 50. You have to understand that at some point, you'll become old, like everyone does, and that if never tried to be even remotely healthy, you will die at an age under your expected life span.

So the reason why I am anti fat acceptance is basically the same reason why I want to go into medicine: it's because I want to help people. It’s because I care about health. I want people to be the best they can be. I want them to be as healthy as they can be. Being obese, or even overweight is not healthy (use your logic here. Being 2 pounds overweight is not the same as being 10 pounds overweight. Genetics and shit. You seem to like that argument, this is where you’re supposed to use it), it's putting a strain on your heart, it's putting a strain on your joints, and if you’re severely overweight, it's fucking around with your internal organs. Never in the world will I ever believe that someone who is extremely extremely overweight or obese is healthy, because, in like 97% of cases (I just pulled that out of my ass, don’t quote me on that), they're not.

You can be beautiful. This has nothing to do with beauty or aesthetic of whatever. I’m saving that for later. Beauty comes from inside you, and not just from what you look like, it comes from how you act.

This is why I find that a lot of people in your fucking movement (the fat acceptance movement) are not beautiful. Because to me making excuses for your poor choices is not beautiful. It's cowardly.

Now I am one of those people that thinks that everybody should have body positivity. Everybody should love themselves, regardless of their weight, of their race, of their gender or whatever the fuck else. Everyone should love themselves.

But, yes, there is a but, loving yourself is not just treating yourself. (And even then, treating yourself is not sitting on the couch all day eating 6 fucking pizzas and calling it self care). Self-care is taking care of yourself, in all of the spheres of the self. So, for your mental, your spiritual and your physical spheres. So you see, taking care of your mental health would be to relax for a day, you know, and to eat what you like without feeling guilty about it and to drink a nice cup of tea and to smell flowers and shit. Something good for your spiritual health would be to meditate to go to whatever church or synagogue or mosque or whatever other place of worship for your particular religion. It could be anything, like listening to TED Talks that you like. And finally, for your physical self, would be to eat fruit, to go to the gym, go for a little walk in the park, drink water… not eat three bags of fucking Cheetos!

We've all done this. We've all eaten way too much junk. We all probably felt guilty about it at some point. What I want for you is not to feel shitty about what you eat, or don't eat. I want for you to be the best you can be, and not even for me (obviously, I’m just some asshole on the internet), for you, for your kids (if you have kids, if you want kids), for your significant other (if you want one), for your family and for yourself.

Because trust me, physical health greatly improves mental health.

#anti fat acceptance #anti haes #op #personal #personal post #moose.txt #fat acceptance #fat activism #fatphobia #anti feminist #anti feminism #anti fat activism

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plusultrabitchez · 5 years

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Just Friends Chapter 2: Cheer Up Bitch

You hated that you had to work today. With everything that was going on you wanted to do nothing but stay at home and cry. But you were a pro-hero and a grown ass women. So you told yourself to suck it up, choke down your shitty feelings for your shift. You had tomorrow off to wallow so all you had to do was to keep it together until then.

~Bakugou's POV~ He sat there at his desk waiting for her to show up. It was unlike Kubo to be late. In the 4 months they have been working together she was always on time or early. He checked his phone to see if she texted him. "Maybe that idiot is sick or something."

When he looked up he saw her enter the office in a hurry. Upon reaching her desk she tossed her bag down by her chair and logged into her computer with a huff. His brows furrowed as he studied her face. Her eyes were puffy, red, and tired. She had obviously been crying. "You're late." He said staring her down. This earned him an icy glare. "Sorry." She said curtly.

Damn, that glare was enough to make even him back off. Clearly, she was upset about something. Should he ask? No, it wasn't his business. As long as she did her job he didn't care. They had tomorrow off so maybe whatever she was pissed about she would get over it over the weekend.

"They changed our patrol route." He said examining the new instructions on his computer. "Great." She said with fake enthusiasm as she checked her email. "Also that lead we had on the Fujita ring was a dead end." He sighed in annoyance. You two had caught on to a drug and weapons ring about a month ago and were finding it difficult to get any hard evidence to warrant a takedown. "Fan-fucking-tastic." She groaned. "Come on." He said getting up. "Let's get out of here."

Today was weird. He and Kubo normally would normally chit chat during their patrols. Talk about random stuff like their shared taste in music, make fun of Bunji, or playfully throw insults at each other but she was quiet today. The only time she spoke is when she was spoken to and he was only getting grunts or hums for replies. The longer this went on, the more annoyed he became. He didn't want to admit it, but he actually enjoyed talking to her. He found her...tolerable.

He started to get somewhat concerned when they encountered a low-level villain and she didn't argue with him to take the lead. They always argued over who got to take down thugs. It was their thing. He enjoyed their thing. It was their thing to get each pumped up for a fight.

By the time they got back to the office, he was thoroughly annoyed. They went to their separate locker rooms to change out of their hero costumes and met back at their desks. She barely looked at him and didn't say a word. She grabbed her bag and logged out of her computer.

He figured he would try one last thing. "Night bitch." He got no response. His brows furrowed. "Aren't you going to call me an asshole?" He growled. She finally looked at him with a harsh scowl on her face. "I didn't realize I needed to state the obvious today."

That was the last straw. He grabbed her arm, dragged her to the deserted hallway and pinned her against the wall. "The fuck is your problem?" He snapped. "What? You want me to call you an asshole? Fine, hey Bakugou, you're a fucking asshole." "No, you've been quiet all day and you didn't even call dibs on the fight earlier." She rolled her eyes. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought you would love it if I just shut the hell up and let you take the lead." "No-I-that's not the point!" "What is the point?!" "What the fuck is wrong with you?" "I'm fine!" Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose trying to calm down. "When you came in this morning you had been crying." She was giving him a death stare as she crossed her arms, but he wasn't going to back down. "So what? Why the fuck do you care?"

He huffed. "I'm your partner. I...Just tell me what the fuck has got a stick up your ass. It's pissing me off." She sighed and chose a spot on the wall to scowl at. "Inasa and I broke up last night." Her voice was soft and quiet now. Bakugou let out a heavy sigh. He took her arm again, more gently this time. "Come on." She quirked a brow at him. "Where are we going?" He huffed. "We're going to a bar so you can cheer up bitch." . . . ~Your POV~ "Another beer please!" You slurred while waving around your empty glass. Bakugou snatched the glass from you and set it down on the bar. "Stop that, you drunk idiot." He said holding back a chuckle. You smiled drunkenly at him. "Bakugou?" "Yeah?" He grunted before taking another drink. "Would you fuck me?" Bakugou spewed out his beer and immediately started choking. "What the fuck Kubo?!" "No! Not like literally. I meant it more of a figurative type thing. Like...am I pretty?" Bakugou did not know how to handle this situation. "Kubo, I'm not talking to you about this." He growled.

You threw your arms around his shoulders and pouted. "Come ooonnn. I need to know if Inasa dumped me because I'm not pretty." "Wait a second. You said you guys broke up." You let go of him and your eyes got sad. "Broke up. Dumped me. Whatever." You nodded at the bartender that placed another beer in front of you. "It...it just sucks." Bakugou sighed. Now it really made sense to him why you were acting the way you were. "Did he say he was breaking up with you because you weren't pretty?" He asked. You swung your feet back and forth. "No..." "Then that wasn't a reason." He polished off his beer. "And if he said that he'd be full of shit." He muttered.

You cracked a cocky grin at him. "Bakugou...you think I'm pretty?" "Shut up Kubo." He tried to play it off but the red on the tips of his ears betrayed him. He ordered another beer and two tequila shots in efforts to ignore your giggles. "He probably broke up with you because you're fucking annoying." He said batting your hands away when you tried to pinch his cheek. You went quiet. "Really?"

He looked over into your big sad eyes and actually felt bad. He forgot you weren't your normal confident self at the moment. He sighed. "No. You're not that annoying and you're...really pretty." He mumbled that last part. "Really?" You asked. Your bottom lip quivering. "Yes damnit!" He huffed and decided to go for it. There was no way you were going to remember this tomorrow. "You're a good fighter, tolerable, and you're fucking hot. If he doesn't want to make it work with you he's fucking dumb. So just be thankful you don't have to worry about any of that stupid relationship bullshit and just focus on being a badass hero okay?" To his surprise, You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Katsuki."

"Don't say I never did anything nice for you." He grumbled as he brushed you off and slid a tequila shot to you. "Cheers you drunk bitch."

"Cheers you soon to be drunk asshole." . . . ~Bakugou's POV~ Kubo was drunkenly singing Coconut as she held onto him for balance. Being somewhat tipsy himself, he found it rather amusing. She let go of his arm and started dancing down the street as they walked back to her place. "I said DOCTAAAA! Is there nothing I can take?" He chuckled and joined in. "I said DOCTAAAA! To relieve this belly ache?" They continued to belt out the song and stumble back to her place. Once they reached her building they sang a little quieter but were in a fit of drunken giggles the whole time. He hadn't let loose like this in a while, and usually, it was by himself at home. The alcohol and the fact she wouldn't remember anything tomorrow made it easier for him to let out his goofy side.

She unlocked her door and they were greeted by a big black pit bull. "Oh fuck!" He jumped back in surprise. "Hadesssss!" She laid down in her doorway while the dog attacked her with kisses. "Hades, this is Katsuki Bakugou." She said sitting up and pointing at him. He decided to kneel down and say hello to the massive animal. "I completely forgot you had a dog." Hades was in love with him immediately.

They shuffled into her apartment and slipped off their shoes. "Want a beer?" She asked walking to the kitchen. "Um, I don't-" "Here you go!" She handed him a beer which he reluctantly accepted. He was just planning on dropping her off and leaving, but free beer. They cracked open the cans and took a sip. Her phone went off which seemed to surprise her as much as him. It was well after 2am. She went over to her bag to rummage through it and get her phone. Her happy drunk demeanor changed. "What's wrong?" He asked. She shook her head and tossed her phone on the couch. "Nothing. Want to go outside? My balcony has a pretty sweet view." "Sure." She put on some One OK Rock, went out to the balcony and turned on some string lights. On his way out he peaked at her phone that was lit up with text notifications.

Inasa: Hey (Y/N)! I just wanted to check in on you. Inasa: Are you doing okay? How was work? Inasa: Missed Call Inasa: (Y/N) I understand that you may not want to talk to me, but I just want to know if you're okay. Inasa: 2 Missed Calls Inasa: (Y/N) please let me know if you're okay? I'm pretty worried here.

"Geez, this guys doesn't understand that she probably wants some space." He knew what he was about to do was probably overstepping his bounds, but he knew Yoarashi enough to know he wouldn't quit until he heard from her.

(Y/N): Hey, this is Bakugou. She's fine. We just went to a bar after work. Just making sure she got home alright. Inasa replied almost immediately. Inasa: Thank you Bakugou! I'm glad she has such a good partner and friend! I appreciate you looking after her. Please let her know that I said hello. Thanks again!

Bakugou rolled his eyes and put the phone down. He was surprised Yoarashi didn't accuse him of taking advantage of her or some shit. He walked out onto the balcony where Kubo was lounging in one of the chairs sipping her beer. He sat down in the chair next to hers and looked out over the city. She was right, it was a nice view.

"Kubo?" "Yes Bakugou?" "What's the real reason Yoarashi called it off?" She let out a heavy sigh and took a swig of her beer. "He couldn't keep doing long distance. I can't say I blame him. We've spent practically our entire relationship long distance. We've only ever had summer vacations or random weekends and now being heroes hundred of miles away from each other..." She trailed off and chugged her beer. "This past month we've barely been able to talk to each other because of conflicting schedules so I knew it was coming sooner rather than later." "Mmm." He didn't know what to say so he just listened and drank his beer. She sighed. "I know it's for the best."

They stared out at the city for a few minutes and drank in silence. "If you saw it coming and know it's for the best why are you so fucking upset?" He asked genuinely confused. He never really got all this relationship crap. It just seemed like a waste of time to him. She scoffed. "1. We were together for a long time, so I'm going to miss him. And 2. I'm the daughter of Shiin and Banshi. Once a guy finds that out they're going to run for the hills." She lifted her beer to him. "Here's to me being single and lonely for the rest of my fucking life."

He laughed and lightly knocked his beer against hers before they chugged. She laughed and leaned her head back in her chair. "You're fucking dramatic you know that?" He teased. She smirked, her eyes were getting heavy. "Yeah a bit."

"I'm sure you'll be just fine you idiot."

He soon heard her breathes become deep and saw that she had passed out. He shook his head and grabbed her empty beer can from her and threw it away. He went back out to the balcony and picked her up. She barely woke up and just nuzzled into his chest as he carried her to her bedroom.

He had never been this close to her before. Her hair smelled like honeysuckles which overpowered the smell of booze on her clothes. He placed her in bed as gently as possible and took off her shoes before throwing some blankets on her.

"What the fuck am I doing?" He thought to himself. He had been mindlessly acting up until this point. He watched her for a moment. She looked pretty peaceful for someone who was passed out drunk. He went and got her a bottle of water from her fridge and a bottle of aspirin and put it on her nightstand.

"She's my partner. I can't have her dying on me or some dumb shit." He brought her phone into her bedroom and plugged it in. "Okay Katsuki, too much. Stop doing shit for her."

He took one last look at her before heading towards her door. "She really is pretty." He growled and smack himself. "Get your shit together and fucking leave already."

"Night asshole." She mumbled. He smirked. "Night Bitch."

When he finally made it home he kicked off his shoes and went to his bedroom to collapse on his bed. He found himself looking over to the empty side of the bed and wondering what she would look like there.

"....Fuck."

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adamcoled · 6 years

Text

intertwined | finn balor

soulmate au finn balor x reader

summary: in a world where you feel all the pain your soulmate feels, having a wrestler for a soulmate really sucks. that is, until you finally meet finn and realize he’s everything you could have asked for.

word count: 14,528 (i’m so sorry)

a/n: i wish read more links worked on mobile, but sadly they don’t so i’m so sorry if this crashes your app because of the length. regardless, i hope you enjoy and i’m so excited to finally have this completed.

tag friends: @reigns420 @thirstiswet @calwitch @xfirespritex @earthtwojess @notlikemostlunatics

The business of soulmates does not make much sense, it hasn’t made sense since you first became versed in it at the tender, naïve age of eleven. Your mother wasn’t quite sure if eleven was the right age to explain such a complex concept to you, but she also wasn’t sure there was a right age at all and you were beginning to doubt the excuses she made when you felt those random surges of pain. In the midst of a Disney movie marathon, you felt an ache with the fire of a thousand embers landing upon your leg at once. These phantom pains certainly weren’t foreign to you, but this one was unlike any other, so strong and overwhelming you begged your mother to take you the hospital.

Instead of listening to your request, she placed a soothing hand on your leg, though a mother’s touch can’t soothe a soulmate wound like it can any other. A soulmate wound penetrates something far deeper than any layer of skin, it digs right into the core of your soul. And finally, she decided you needed to know every bit of the truth, even if you couldn’t comprehend it, even if it was a concept far beyond your eleven-year-old brain. After carefully considering her words, she explained to you that every bit of pain your soulmate, the very person you are destined to be with, felt, you felt too.

You were angry. You were eleven years old and confused and angry because you couldn’t understand how someone else’s pain could hurt you as well and you were angry that your stupid soulmate had gotten himself hurt – not because you couldn’t bear the thought of him hurt, but because he had brought this upon you as a result. While you tried to convince your mother that your soulmate was an awful person who you despised already, she told you repeatedly that your hatred would fade in time. Just like your parents, you would meet your soulmate and you would fall in love and forget about the years of hurt. At age eleven, that was an idea you couldn’t grasp. At age fifteen, you tried to believe her.

Fifteen struck you as an age for growth, an opportunity to renew yourself and learn. You figured it was time to finally accept the simple fact that you had a soulmate somewhere out there. And beyond that, it was time to cease your hatred for that soulmate. Just as he had caused you pain, you had caused him the same; it would be hypocritical of you to continue hating him for something he could not control. It was the universe that had fated you two, just as it was the universe that had created such a literally painful connection.

This was your mindset until age eighteen, when the pain became an almost daily thing and you couldn’t prevent the fury from bubbling up. You swore you weren’t going to bite your tongue when you met him, preparing a speech composed of venomous words and a few swears for good measure. Whatever his reason for the constant pain, you weren’t keen on listening. It had been your ever-present kindness and consideration that had prevented you from pulling potentially dangerous stunts and taking adrenaline-inducing risks, all to avoid hurting the one who carelessly offered his body to the pits of suffering. After so many years, you had learned to endure it, but the vicious words were still sitting on the tip of your tongue ready to spew out at the proper moment.

Unlike your soulmate, you didn’t necessarily get hurt for the sake of getting hurt, per se. Rather, you gave up the careful approach to life you had once adopted and began to venture out into the realms of danger. There was no longer a point in avoiding adventure in exchange for your asshole of a soulmate’s comfort. In that way, eighteen really was the year of maturity for you; you stopped taking shit from someone you didn’t even know and took back the life you felt he’d unknowingly stolen from you.

Your friends soon became aware of the unpleasant situation you were in with your soulmate when you doubled over in pain more than once, their concerned responses being met with a harsh glare that told them all they needed to know. It wasn’t you hurting, it was your soulmate out there being an idiot again. Meanwhile, most of them had met their destined partner and had, indeed, fallen in love. To you, the idea of love now seemed entirely implausible – you were never in a million years going to love this reckless human being – and time was passing by, slowly but surely. Perhaps you’d be the exception, the one to never meet your soulmate. That didn’t sound so bad. You were doing just fine, after all, save for the overwhelming desire to release your years of pent-up rage.

And then, many years later, your best friend had a brilliant thought, one she couldn’t believe she had neglected all this time. Countless brainstorming about the possible details of your soulmate had somehow left out one profession that answered nearly every question and fit every criterion.

“Do you think...” Alexa began, strewn across your bed with her phone tossed haphazardly beside her, “do you think that maybe your soulmate is a wrestler?”

The mere thought sounded absolutely bizarre to you, even if it was a very possible explanation. Really, if anything, it would only leave you with more questions. You weren’t sure where she had gotten this idea from, either; you didn’t know her to be a wrestling fan.

“A wrestler? Where did you even get that idea from?” you asked, suddenly focused on your rogue strands of hair. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let on the fact that you were a little excited to potentially get one step closer to your soulmate. You were still hellbent on convincing everyone – and yourself – that you’d be content with never meeting him.

“Jeez, shut me down before giving it a chance,” she rolled her eyes, “it’s like you don’t even want to meet your soulmate.”

“Because I don’t.”

All it took was the insincerity dripping from your words to prove otherwise, and Alexa caught on quite quickly. The smirk playing on her face told you she had you figured out and all you could do was avoid her gaze and hope that didn’t make it all the more obvious.

“Sure you don’t,” she nodded, using her tone to indicate she didn’t believe your indifference. “So, as I was saying, we should start by looking up upcoming nearby WWE dates.”

“Alexa! We’re not going to a WWE event to manhunt for my soulmate,” you rejected immediately.

You reached over and grabbed a pillow, tossing it directly at her to emphasize your point. All anyone had ever told you, anyway, was that your soulmate was supposed to make their way to you, that your paths would cross when fate decided it was time. Fate, fate, fate, that’s all anyone ever talked about, everything relied on fate and none of it made sense. Even so, you didn’t want to be the pathetic one scouring for your soulmate, despite your heart desperately awaiting the being who was supposed to fill it. While you wanted so badly to believe you wouldn’t mind a life on your own, the ever-present feeling of a missing piece never faltered and you worried it never would without him.

“We are in…five weeks. They’re going to be nearby and you deserve every chance possible to meet your soulmate. I know even if you two don’t get along, it’ll at least be some form of closure for you. Don’t you want that?”

The thought of how badly you really did just want something to fill the void overpowered, and you nodded without looking at her. Tears building up in your eyes rebelled against your wishes and you didn’t want her to see them, didn’t want her to see just how much it was silently eating away at you not knowing who your person was. As those around you happily fell in love like they were fated to, gushing about their happiness, you felt utterly guilty for feeling nothing at all.

“Alright,” you agreed, unaware of the impact this action would soon have, “don’t get your hopes up, though. It’s a big world.”

“That it is, Y/N,” she said, the smile painting her face seeming almost as forced as the one on yours, “but I know you’ll be much happier in it with your soulmate by your side.”

For a moment, you wanted to believe that, but it didn’t seem like your story could have such a simple, happy ending.

Five weeks came and went and each day you reconsidered your decision a little more than the last. Between the nerves and the dread, you had become overflowed with an ocean of emotions that you could hardly subdue much longer. Each time Alexa reminded you that you may finally uncover the truth behind your soulmate, you wanted to reinforce the point that this was a huge long shot. She expected to attend this event with you and watch as you found your soulmate and fell in love at first sight; she did not expect the much more realistic possibility of the two of you leaving the venue disappointed. At this point, you really weren’t sure which option you wanted more.

“Zip my bag, please?” Alexa requested, sitting on top of it so its contents wouldn’t come spitting out like they eagerly wanted to.

“Jesus, Lex,” you groaned, finally pulling the zipper to the opposite end, “we’re only going away for two days. Did you pack your whole house?”

She picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before using it to bump you out of her room.

“I’m prepared for anything and everything. You’ll thank me later when you need something and I’ve got it in this trusty bag of mine.”

Wordlessly, you rolled your eyes and tossed your own bag into her trunk, not missing the grin she so proudly wore. You had no clue what sort of needless items Alexa had packed, nor did you feel the need to find out. She more than likely had something up her sleeve that you’d learn about eventually regardless of prying or not. You just hoped she wouldn’t take this trip any more seriously than you were – after all, she was a wonderful best friend and would have no problem taking every measure to find your soulmate. But your fate problems were just that, yours. Fate didn’t seem to like others messing with it.

Minutes passed and the only sound between you two was the gentle hum of the radio, turned down to a low volume because you’d intended on sleeping. Perhaps it was the nerves, but every part of your body refused sleep and welcomed rambunctious thoughts.

“Hey,” you pierced the silence, lifting your head off the window, “if I do happen to find my soulmate, which is a big if, do you even have a plan?”

You were so certain it wouldn’t happen that you hadn’t thought about what you would do if it did, and while you didn’t necessarily want Alexa getting entangled in your circumstances, you hoped she had thought of something. She was always the one with a plan, you were always the one going along with it.

“We’ll find him around town somewhere,” she shrugged, as if that was such a simple, normal thing. The chances of finding your soulmate during this trip were slim to none, but the chances of running into him in town were negative one-thousand. Yet the steady, proud smile remained her lips amidst your confusion, telling you she was more than convinced her plan would fall into place.

“You really think we’re just going to run into him? Lex, you told me you didn’t feed into that fate bullshit.”

As the words fell from your lips, you noticed the way she tossed you a glance out of the corner of her eye. Your own eyes landed upon the engagement ring she donned on her finger and you realized her view certainly must have changed when she met her soulmate.

“I didn’t,” she said, “but I’ve seen it work, Y/N. I just want you to experience how amazing it feels to finally find the one.”

And then the car ride was silent for a while, giving you more time to think than you would have liked. You could vividly remember the happiness Alexa tried to explain to you when she met Buddy, but it was the bright smile she could never contain when talking about him that said more than words ever could. Admittedly, you felt jealous of her, absolutely happy for her, but jealous nonetheless. It was your jealousy that you couldn’t comprehend, jealousy you wished to suppress. It meant that you did, indeed, long for your soulmate, even against the mantra you repeated to yourself. After all, how could you not long for the kind of happiness Alexa had found? And finally, when you least expected it, sleep found its way to you, perhaps after the endless thinking slowly wore you down.

What felt like only minutes later, you felt your body being gently shaken and faintly heard Alexa’s repeated attempts at waking you up. It was only an hour and forty-minute drive, yet you had managed to fall into quite possibly the deepest sleep you’ve gotten in a while; you assumed it was this very day keeping you awake at night. The event wasn’t until later tonight as you two had arrived into town early, which granted you a few more hours to calm your mind down from its rampant thoughts.

“Sleep well?” Alexa asked once your eyes finally fluttered open and your head slowly lifted. Sleeping in such an uncomfortable way had killed your neck, but besides that, you felt more rejuvenated than ever.

“Surprisingly,” you nodded, “so, do you have any knowledge about wrestling shows? I hope we’re not two rookies trying to take this on.”

Alexa had yet to tell you how this sudden epiphany about your maybe-wrestler soulmate came to her and you were growing increasingly interested in figuring it out. You had minimal knowledge on the world of wrestling, so you were going to be in foreign territory tonight. At the very least, you hoped Alexa had enough experience to suffice for the both of you, otherwise you felt an upcoming calamitous night.

“Actually, I do,” she smirked, happy to prove you wrong and basking in the shock on your face when she did so. “I went to a few with my dad, bet ya didn’t know that.”

Truthfully, you didn’t, but that wasn’t your fault. She’d never even mentioned it, not that you could remember, though regardless if your memory was failing you or not, you were relieved she could provide some insight.

“You’re right, you’re right. But, that makes you the designated leader since I’m going into this blindly.”

To say you had expectations for the night – other than returning home still soulmate-less – would be a lie; you had no idea what to expect, but Alexa had told you that even if this adventure didn’t bring you to your soulmate, you would still enjoy yourself. You were clinging to those words, hoping they held some truth. Otherwise, you couldn’t help but think the drive home would be full of bitter tears and silence. And as always, you would have to hide within yourself, concealing the sadness you confined to the smallest crevices of your heart and away from outside eyes.

“Aren’t I always?”

You rolled your eyes at that despite the accuracy, finally opening the car door and nearly falling over when your feet touched the ground. After looking around to ensure no one else had witnessed your near-blunder, you made your way to the back and pulled it open, reaching for your bag that was shoved further inside. Once the two of you had your bags slung over your shoulders, Alexa locked her car and you made for the hotel.

Upon entering, you immediately lost yourself to the hotel scenery, taking note of how nice everything looked in comparison to other hotels you had stayed at. Alexa took up the role of speaking to the front desk employee, meanwhile you interjected at certain times and gawked at the environment around you at others. Your eyes landed upon nearly every detail they could find, until they finally settled on a group of bodies exiting the elevator a good some feet away from you and Alexa. Each of them seemed like a blur, unfocused, until the group somewhat parted and one person stood out in particular. He was the only one you could truly see, metaphorically of course, as if you had been searching for him all along. Maybe you had been.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Alexa interrupted, motioning her head towards the elevator the group had just come out of. They were walking away, headed for the door, and you could only see the back of the guy’s head now. The wide smile he donned was circling through your brain, you could see it so clearly, and you wondered if he had seen you, too. You didn’t know how that would be possible, he hadn’t even looked in your direction, but you felt something. Something was pulling you to him, and before you could even realize it, Alexa had started walking away, anticipating you to follow her. She turned around and noticed that you were still very much glued in place. “Y/N? What’re you looking at?”

“Sorry…I’m coming,” you blinked, following her into the elevator where she bombarded you with questions on the spot.

“So? What had you so shaken up? Did you see something, someone…oh, my God,” she registered, hands grasping at your forearms. “You saw him!”

“Lex, it was nothing. Come on, it was a group of attractive guys, of course I was a little distracted!”

Her hand fell upon her hip, jutting out to match the disapproving look she wore. You knew it was silly to try to hide your experience from someone who had found their soulmate and knew what it looked like, but you weren’t interested in starting an uproar over nothing. Though, it was far from nothing.

“Nuh uh uh,” she disagreed, waggling her finger directly in front of you, “I saw the look in your eyes, I know that look. Which one was it?”

She had you completely pieced together, just like she always did as your best friend, and it was useless keeping it from her. She wasn’t going to relent until you confessed you had felt the telltale soulmate pull.

“The one in the middle, he was the shortest one, I think,” you admitted, nearly bursting as you recalled the man who walked out of the elevator, all smiles, and captivated you. “I can’t remember if he was or not because I didn’t get a good look at the others.”

“Because you couldn’t get a good look at the others. It was just him, right?”

“Right.”

Her mouth opened to both tease you and congratulate you – even though you still weren’t convinced that that was without a doubt your soulmate – but her words were cut off by the halt of the elevator and the doors sliding open. You had arrived at the third floor, but just as you two stepped out, someone else stepped in. His hair sat in a bun towards the top of his head, and although he was certainly good-looking, he couldn’t compare to the one who had stepped out of the elevator previously and frozen you in place.

“Hello ladies,” he said kindly, an exchange of friendly smiles following as the elevator doors came to a close. Just before they could shut completely, however, Alexa snapped her neck around so quickly you could have sworn she’d given herself whiplash. Then the man was out of sight entirely and she turned back to you, eyes wide with shock and shining with excitement.

“That was Seth Rollins!” she exclaimed, doing a pretty bad job of containing her enlivened voice. “Wait, wait…what did the group of guys from before look like? Did they look like wrestlers? I didn’t really see them.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion and you scoured your brain for a way to answer her question – you weren’t really sure what a “wrestler look” was, but they looked fit enough for the job.

“Um…I guess? I don’t know, what does that even mean? Who’s Seth Rollins?” you questioned all at once, not missing the subtle shake of her head and deep sigh. Apparently, she had forgotten this wasn’t anything you were familiar with.

“All you need to know is that I think the chances of running into your soulmate just became much more likely.”

The statement was cryptic yet powerful, leaving you in a shocked stupor as she went on her merry way to your shared hotel room, expecting you to be in tow. Though here you were again, feet stuck in the ground as if roots had grown and entangled them. Events had unfolded so suddenly that your mind barely processed them, still tossing the memory of the bright-eyed guy from what had begun to feel like hours ago. And then all at once you regained yourself, jogging to catch up with Alexa even as your thoughts were still chaos.

In the hotel room, you tossed your bag into the nearest corner and threw yourself onto the bed, a rather comfy replacement for the passenger seat of Alexa’s car. You vaguely heard her mention something about taking a shower, your attention more focused on the Google search that you were reading so carefully. It provided you with basic knowledge on Seth Rollins, but it was a photo under the recommended searches that had peaked your interest. Right in front of your eyes was the face you would be able to recognize anywhere despite how brief your encounter was; you could distinctly remember those blue eyes and brilliant smile. Even studying him through a screen sent waves throughout your being, and you wondered if you’d still end up disappointed. You were pretty damn sure he had to be it, the pure emotions coursing through you said it all, but until you could confirm it, you tried to quell those thoughts.

“Finn Bálor,” you mumbled, the name rolling off your tongue so easily it felt habitual. From there, you tumbled into a rabbit hole, taking it upon yourself to watch some of his matches and interviews. Every small detail of him you noticed, especially enamored by his Irish lilt and immeasurable talent and dazzling smile and…maybe everything about him. The bed suddenly shifted, Alexa joining you because she couldn’t mistake the sound of wrestling commentary.

“What’re you watching?” she asked, leaning over to catch a glimpse. Her words nearly entered your ears without registering, you were so consumed in the video that the world around you seemed nonexistent.

Instead of answering her question, you repositioned slightly so she had more of a view of your phone and you wouldn’t have to lose focus responding. It was the WrestleMania match between Seth Rollins, The Miz, and Finn Bálor, but it was very clear who your attention was drawn to.

“Hey,” you spoke up, eyes never leaving the screen, “what do you know about Finn Bálor?”

Alexa didn’t need to any clarification to understand the weight of your question, but she’d wait until the words officially left your lips. She wouldn’t tease you about it right now, fully aware of how monumental this must have been for you.

“Not a whole lot, I don’t consistently watch, but I do know he’s a fan favorite and really, really talented,” she explained, your head subconsciously nodding to agree with her praise. “Why?”

Alexa’s previous phrase was beginning to hold a lot more value to you now that you understood it so clearly. It was just him, right? And it was. You swore to yourself you were going to hate your soulmate, had years of internal monologues you’d intended to unleash on him, yet now you felt incapable. Everything that never made sense finally came together and you could no longer find that hatred within you. There was hardly a single drop of anger left to release, and you even wanted to be angry at that. Years of pain erased into nothingness because you’d found him, but you couldn’t believe your resolve had crumbled so quickly. Fate had destined your paths and you guessed you should have known better than to think for a second fate wouldn’t have its way.

“It’s think it’s him, Lex.”

You allowed the words to flow freely from your mouth and damn you felt too poetic saying them, but it was the only way you knew to put it and regardless, Alexa understood. And you understood, too. This was all much bigger than you and somewhere deep within, you realized now that you’d admitted the very likelihood of Finn being your soulmate, everything was about to change. You couldn’t take back the words you’d spoken anymore, they now belonged to the wind that had swept them away.

The next hours left you with much to think about, but you weren’t particularly interested in spending so much time trying to sort through the plethora of thoughts spinning circles in your brain. Even Alexa encouraged you to clear your mind before you attended the show, so she found nearby tourist attractions and all but forced you to join her on a venture into the depths of town. She made sure to turn the radio up just loud enough for you to lose yourself in the music and not your thoughts, belting out lyrics with you and hoping the wide smile on your face meant she was succeeding in her mission.

But, your distraction could only last so long, and then you and Alexa were back in the hotel preparing to leave once more, this time to make your way to the arena. You felt oddly nervous, though you tried to conceal that with half-hearted smiles whenever Alexa glanced at you.

“You ready?” she asked you, taking note of your anxious foot-tapping.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you nodded, following her out the door and silently wishing tonight would answer all the questions you had.

This time, you kept the radio turned down, knowing full well it couldn’t distract you now. Even as you watched the environment passing by you, soaking up the small details like the one tree amongst a forest that looked prepared to topple over at any moment, the fonts on various signs decorating buildings, and any other insignificant thing your eyes landed upon, only one thing remained in your head. You were searching for a distraction that would not come, because everything came full circle back to Finn and the situation you were about to face.

“Fate is really weird, huh?”

The question came out of you without much thought, just a simple realization you’d come to after reflecting on the day’s events. No matter how much you wanted to deny fate completely like you had done for so long, it was nearly impossible after the things you’d experienced today. Silence fell upon you two after that, but you were glad she wasn’t trying to force you into conversation – the map app on Alexa’s phone claimed you were only eight minutes away from the arena, anyway, and you were clinging to each moment. In fact, you were so consumed by contemplation that you hardly even noticed when the car was parked and Alexa was slowly getting herself together.

“Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been at one of these things,” Alexa commented, “and now I get to witness my best friend see her soulmate in action.”

“Maybe soulmate.”

“Definite soulmate,” she corrected, “you said it yourself.”

You gathered yourself and exited the car, leaning against the door once you really noticed everything around you, from the people milling about and filing into the arena to the arena itself. It was entirely different being so close to it, and not just the building, but to your potential future. Suddenly, you felt the waves of it all and had to regain yourself momentarily, relieved when Alexa was by your side so you could finally just enter this damn arena and get the initial jitters over with. You made sure to follow Alexa’s lead because you honestly felt like you were in a whole other world, unsure of where to look first because it all was so new.

It was also easy to recognize how ecstatic Alexa was to be there, as if she was back in her element, and you were more than happy your soulmate situation brought her back to a place she seemed to feel at home in.

A small part of you also felt strangely at ease, despite the weight of the night, which you couldn’t begin to comprehend. When the show began and the crowd shouted at once, you even joined in, barely aware of what you were cheering for. It was odd, really, but Alexa simply grinned at you in her own excitement. Perhaps it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly very familiar with WWE by the way your cheers were always a little delayed, barreling out of you once you realized Alexa and most others around you were doing so. But truthfully, you didn’t mind any of it, genuinely enjoying yourself as Alexa periodically whispered things to you so you’d be a little more aware.

Any calm-before-the-storm had dissipated the moment the main event Finn would be a part of rolled around, Alexa flashing you a reassuring smile and double thumbs-up, yet all you could give her in return was a closed-mouth smile that didn’t meet your eyes. Your entire life of soulmate pain culminated to this moment, this moment that was so very unlike what you unexpected.

And then you just almost missed when Finn’s name was announced – almost – sending Alexa a playful glare when she elbowed your side, though the glare was cut short by your eyes fleeing over to the ramp the second his theme blared into the arena. Nothing could prepare you for the utter mesmerization you felt when Finn walked out – sure, you had seen him earlier, exiting the elevator, but now you were really seeing him. You were seeing him in the place where he truly shined, but he was not seeing you.

That is, until he began his steady walk to the ring and gazed into the sea of fans, forever in awe of so many people in one place cheering for him, never unimpressed by their devotion. A smile was adorned on his face the entire time, nodding at fans as he passed by, but then you caught his eye. Or maybe “caught his eye” was a massive understatement – it was. Somehow, you were the one face he noticed out of all others, but he realized quite quickly it was not simply because the way you smiled at him as if he was the entire world made him almost physically weak, not because you were easily one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen, not because of anything outward like that. It was beyond all that, and Finn wasn’t one to necessarily fall for the whole fate thing, either, but it suddenly made more sense than ever before.

For you, the feeling was much too similar, ignoring Alexa’s cheerful squeals beside you once she realized you and Finn were trapped in such intense eye contact. His eyes seemed even bluer now, his smile even brighter, and how could you not stare at him so ardently when he looked so good?

Just as quickly as you’d locked eyes, he’d snapped his head forward and continued his trek to the ring. Had time stopped momentarily? It sure as hell felt like it. There couldn’t have been more than five seconds of eye contact between you two, yet it seemed like five minutes. You silently reminded yourself to ask Alexa about that later.

“I’m so happy for you,” Alexa spoke into your ear, certainly not missing the happening that had just transpired. You appreciated that, but you couldn’t accept that it all would fall into place now – Finn did not know you beyond those five seconds, and you weren’t sure how exactly you’d approach him if the opportunity arose. How you wished the pieces would simply come together now that there was that fleeting moment between you and Finn, but that was plain impossible. All you could do for now was watch Finn from the sidelines and hope that perhaps your voice would carry more amongst the thousands of others, though the mere idea of that was a pipedream. Nevertheless, you spectated with watchful eyes, engaged in the match from start to finish, anticipating a tag to Finn. Finally, the tag was made, and you became all the more engrossed. This was the final bit of confirmation you needed – not that it wasn’t already quite apparent Finn was your soulmate.

You were preparing yourself for any pain at all, but Finn had the match under control, dealing the brunt of the damage rather than receiving it. It was even beginning to look like he’d capture the pin himself – until the roles abruptly reversed, Finn being shoved into a corner of the ring against the turnbuckle.

Sure enough, you felt a swift ache jolt up your backside, but it was nothing in comparison to what you’d felt in the past. But regardless of how painful it was, it was enough to support what you’d suspected. Finn was your soulmate. Finn, the one who had put you through hell at times, the one whose laughter was still echoing in your head from the videos you’d watched, the one who had never put himself in stupidly dangerous situations just for the hell of it like you’d surmised. You felt guilty for concluding that; he was only chasing his dreams and doing what he loved, and you wanted to apologize to him even if he had no clue about any of it.

“I told you,” Alexa quipped, beaming with unadulterated happiness for you. She’d noticed the way your eyes squinted just as Finn had been thrown into the turnbuckle, but more importantly she’d noticed the way your eyes gleamed once they’d reopened. “You found him.”

“Thanks, Alexa,” you said, summing up the pool of emotions coursing through your veins with those two words. You owed her everything; she never believed you when you told her you didn’t care about finding your soulmate, and you never knew you would be so grateful for her adamancy until now.

The match ended, Finn’s team seizing the win, and he made sure to look directly into your section as he walked up the ramp. He was quite disappointed when your head was turned, speaking to the girl beside you he assumed was your friend. However, that didn’t stop his gaze from lingering for as long as possible, and at nearly the last second, you turned towards him and caught his stare, slightly regretful when he had to tear his eyes away because he’d look rather strange craning his neck to maintain the eye contact as he approached the top of the ramp. He’d already noticed Seth’s questioning looks, well-aware he’d hear about it once they were all backstage.

“Man, you were staring into the same section of the crowd every time I looked at you,” Seth commented – just as Finn had expected – raising his eyebrow in skepticism, “what’s goin’ on?”

For Finn, wrestling became a way to forget about the sad fact that most of his friends had found their soulmates and lived each day without wondering. He could tell they tried to leave the topic of soulmates out of discussion when possible, and while they only meant well, he felt bitter that they pitied him so much. More than once, he’d waved his hand to signal they didn’t have to tiptoe around him, that he was committed to wrestling and could live with that – which he couldn’t – but it seemed as if his reassurance always fell on deaf ears. He’d even approached groups of his friends, only to become mildly uncomfortable when all conversation stopped when he’d arrived. Clearly, nobody would ever believe that they could talk freely about their significant others with Finn around.

Now, he’d seen you in the crowd and it registered within him instantly that you were it for him. He just had to find you once more, to actually meet you like every fiber of his being was begging for; but for now, he had to explain to Seth and the others that he now harbored the overwhelming feeling of wholeness since noticing you.

“There was someone in the crowd that I just…I couldn’t stop looking at her, y’know?” he confessed, not missing the knowing smirks that made their way to his friends faces.

“Ohohoh,” Seth chuckled, slapping Finn’s back in congratulations, “our Finn here has found his soulmate!”

“No way, tonight?!” Sasha exclaimed, replicating the smile Finn wore as well. He nodded, the memory of how fervently you two had looked at each other replaying in his mind; you were seeing him in a way nobody had ever seen him before and he felt like he was crumbling before you in the best way possible.

Everyone went around congratulating him, unaware that he’d now have to face the task of finding you again somehow. Bayley embraced him the tightest of hugs she’d probably ever given, mumbling about how much he deserved this.

“Finn’s all grown up now,” Sami joked, throwing his arm around Finn’s neck.

“Watch it, Sami,” Finn grinned, lowering his head in warning, “I’m older than ya, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Meanwhile, Alexa was concocting her master plan for you and Finn to cross paths again, detailing the steps to you as you listened blissfully, a lazy smile still painted on your face. You’d already learned Finn and some of his friends were staying in the same hotel as you and Alexa, which was shocking enough, and Alexa had been considering that ever since. As soon as the show was over, she insisted you two hurry out and head for the hotel straight away – her reasoning didn’t become clear until she explained it to you in the car.

“We’ll definitely be at the hotel before Finn arrives. So, we can hang out in the lobby, and when he does arrive, you’ll be right there and it’ll be the perfect opportunity,” she instructed. It was a solid enough plan, but it wasn’t the plausibility of it that you were questioning.

“Isn’t that, like, a bit creepy?”

“I think the laws of creepiness can be a little bent to meet your soulmate.”

You rolled your eyes jokingly at that, figuring maybe she was right; it was the only shot you had and you couldn’t imagine heading back home without having spoken a word to Finn. She couldn’t accept that, not after what had unfolded in just a day, and so you had to take the chance, even if it meant waiting around in a hotel lobby. At least it was a nice one.

Your focus fell back upon the world passing outside the window, neon signs illuminating the night beautifully, the moon following your journey to the hotel. You should have been exhausted, but you felt more alive than ever, smiling as you noticed your reflection in the window. The echoes of the crowd from just fifteen minutes earlier still filled your ears and the sight of Finn in the ring still danced around in your thoughts. Things were beginning to seem like fantasy, such a wonderful, vivid fantasy, so you inhaled once, deeply, pleased to find when your eyes opened, the world was still the same.

It wasn’t until you were in the hotel, sitting in a rather comfortable chair beside Alexa in the lobby, that you registered the situation – that eventually, Finn would come through those front doors, and he’d be mere feet away from you. And then you’d confirm – hopefully not awkwardly – that you were each other’s soulmate, and you weren’t sure where things would go from there. You knew he had to have a tight schedule – which was disappointing when you dwelled on it, so you tried to drive the thought away – and you couldn’t be sure when you’d see him again after tonight.

You weren’t devoting all your attention to watching the doors, because you already felt weird enough waiting here, so Alexa had taken it upon herself to keep watch as discretely as possible. Instead, you were scrolling through Instagram with shaky fingers, nervously expecting Alexa to say Finn had arrived each time she began to speak. It wasn’t doing much to distract you, but it was giving you something else to pretend to be interested in.

“Y/N,” Alexa spoke suddenly, penetrating the silence that had fallen upon you two, her voice quieter than before. It didn’t take more than a second for you to sort it out, glancing to the doors Finn had just entered. In tow was three other people – you recognized them as Seth, Sami, and Kevin – and from the moment they walked in, they were laughing amongst each other. Finn, on the other hand, was shaking his head with a hint of a smile on his face, leading the group towards the elevator – which was right in your direction.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed your frame perched upon the couch, but he initially figured his mind was just playing rude tricks on him now. He decided to do a double take, just in case, and there you were, not a figment of his imagination, but very real and only eight feet away from him. He stopped in his tracks, his feet suddenly incapable of lifting, and Seth ran straight into his back unexpectedly.

“The hell?” Seth sputtered, about to question Finn’s pause until he followed his line of sight and saw you and Alexa, stopping the words from tumbling out when he pieced it together.

“I think it’s time to stop the staring and talk to her,” Sami chuckled, pushing Finn towards you before Finn could even object. You snickered at their antics, catching their contained whoops and hollers as Finn approached you. The way your heart was beating felt inhuman, but you couldn’t worry about that when Finn was now right in front of you, the space between you just inches.

“I’m gonna go up to the room,” Alexa winked, silently bidding you good luck before joining Finn’s friends in the elevator. You could already practically hear her making jokes in the cramped space with them.

“Hi,” Finn spoke first once every other soul had left the vicinity, voice tinged with elation and bashfulness. He had that signature smile on his face, and you couldn’t believe it managed to be even more radiant this close, lighting up his entire face and reaching the corners of his eyes.

“Hi,” you giggled out, Finn’s grin seemingly getting even wider at the sound. The atmosphere wasn’t awkward, no, you wouldn’t call it that; it was pure.

“I’m Finn,” he introduced, even though you knew his name very well, especially after it had been the only thing on your mind for hours now. He, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about you – it was rather strange, the disparity between your knowledge of each other. Essentially, all he knew about you was that you attended the show and, hopefully, that you were his soulmate.

“I’m Y/N,” you told him, “you were really great out there tonight.”

Your compliment nearly had him blushing, which wouldn’t have happened with anyone else besides you, and he prayed redness wouldn’t flood his cheeks in flusterment.

“Ya think so?”

“Absolutely!” you affirmed, slightly wincing when you realized you might have sounded a bit too enthusiastic; Finn didn’t seem to mind at all, though, thanking you for the praise through melodious laughter. The silvery sound escaping his parted lips made you laugh as well, and once the laughter subsided, both of you were looking at each other in silent awe. With the cerulean waters of his eyes studying you so intently, you felt a rush of exhilaration travel throughout your body, and now you were biting back the word “soulmate,” unsure of how to initially integrate it into the conversation, especially so early on. It was something that needed to be addressed sooner rather than later, so you carefully chose your words and decided to take the leap of faith.

“Well, I think…either there’s some weird timing going on around here,” you began, smirking at him as he awaited your next sentence, “or…we’re soulmates.” The final statement came out smoothly, easily – at least much easier than you would have expected – as if it had been spoken before, which it certainly had not.

“Soulmate” was on the tip of Finn’s tongue, too, and he was both shocked and relieved when you said it before he could. He knew immediately that your personality was one he’d fall in love with quickly – you weren’t afraid to say what needed to be said and you said it without being cryptic. He sure as hell felt lucky already to have been fated to you.

“Can we go with the latter?”

“Depends on if you think you can take my wrath after giving me so much pain all these years,” you joked, and he laughed, though a part of him felt the guilt bubbling up. He would have never intended to cause you that pain, but wrestling was his life, and he hoped you didn’t resent him too much for it.

“I’m really sorry for that,” he frowned, his hands subconsciously burying into his sweatshirt pocket. He could barely meet your eye now, regret flooding into him.

“Hey, Finn,” you reached out to tilt his face towards you since he had turned away, “it’s alright, really. I understand – I’m not mad.” Anymore. You weren’t mad anymore, but you left that part out, avoiding instilling anymore guilt into him. “How could I be mad?”

It was easy to hate your soulmate when you didn’t have a face or name to him, when you didn’t have even basic information; it was impossible to hate your soulmate when you were looking right at him and melting under his transfixed gaze, burning this image and this experience into memory because it could perhaps be the last time you were this close to Finn for some time.

“Good,” he breathed out, desperate to place his hand over top of yours but ultimately deciding against it. “Good. I don’t think I could take you hating me.”

His voice had softened, as had his features, pondering how he would have dealt if he had finally found you only to be resented. He shook the thought away, determined to not let alternate scenarios ruin this moment. After all, he only had tonight with you.

“I’m supposed to leave for the next town tomorrow…” he sighed, trailing off because he really wasn’t sure where he was going with the declaration. He watched dismay wash over your face, feeling just the same as you – there was no way he could leave with this being your sole interaction, a limited conversation in a hotel lobby.

“I figured…” you nodded, feigning acceptance. Finn’s expression mimicked your own, but then his eyes lit up as if he had randomly realized something.

“But,” he started, “the night is still relatively young and I want to know more about you. Y’know, since we are soulmates and all.” You chuckled at that, appreciating his subtle humor and hoping his intentions matched your own. “So, whaddya say? Would you like to explore the night with me?”

“I am kind of hungry. How about that 24-hour diner down the road?”

“I like the way you think.”

Despite the liveliness of your own night, the diner was, put simply, quite dead. Two people sat on the seats by the counter, picking at the remains of their food, and a couple – teenagers, they looked to be – were happily sipping their milkshakes in a booth in the far back, their laughter reviving the sleepy diner. Their happiness brought you happiness as well, and you wondered what it was like to find your person so young.

You and Finn took a booth ways away from them, leaving them to their date, but you did notice the quick glimpse Finn stole, eyes clouding over with something unrecognizable.

“That’s cute, huh?” he spoke, his chin resting on his closed hands. You knew he was referencing the two teens, but you spared them a cursory glance anyway. Absentmindedly, you began stirring your straw in your drink, picturing the roles reversed – you and Finn as the young couple giggling in a stowed away diner booth at 12:37 A.M.

“Yeah,” you agreed, flashing a lopsided grin, “but my teenage years were consumed by excessive studying – I would’ve been a really bad girlfriend.” The both of you snickered at that, and he nodded because he, too, was focused on other things during that period.

“And I would have been a really bad boyfriend. I didn’t even think about the idea of a relationship because all I knew was wrestling,” he explained, and though wrestling was still a huge part of his life, he felt now was a better time than any to settle down.

Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, your response was interrupted as you apologized to Finn and checked the notification, finding a message from Alexa asking for updates. Your fingers quickly typed out that you’d tell her everything in full detail once you returned to the hotel, and of course she sent only a sly emoji in response.

“Sorry, it was just my friend Alexa.”

“Was she the one with you tonight?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes jokingly as you pictured your best friend impatiently awaiting your return to pry every bit of information from you. “She’s a character, but I owe her a lot.” Finn had no way of knowing Alexa essentially brought the two of you together, but you made sure to acknowledge that fact. In time, you’d tell Finn the unusual story of how Alexa’s mere speculation led to it all, but you saved that for another day.

“Tell me about it,” Finn groaned, “if you didn’t notice, my buds are pretty…interesting, too.” You thought back to his friends in the lobby, shoving him towards you and patting him on the back as they walked away. They certainly did seem interesting, and from what you could gather, Finn seemed to be the mellow one of the group. In that way, the two of you were similar, but you could imagine bountiful adventures together that you hoped would come to fruition.

“They sure seem like it,” you agreed, leaning your head against your hands as you succumbed to the trance Finn’s eyes created yet again. “But, I think you’re the most interesting out of them.” And it was absolutely true, because you knew there had to be so much more to piece together about Finn.

“Are you just saying that as my soulmate?” he joked, his heart rate picking up as you beamed at him, head shaking repeatedly.

“Not at all.”

After leaving the diner, exhaustion finally started to settle in, tugging on your eyelids – Finn noticed your attempts to stay awake as he drove back to the hotel, finding it quite cute. He couldn’t blame you, either, as he felt just as tired and struggled between wanting to hit his pillow immediately and not wanting the night to end. Luckily, both of your rooms were on the third floor, so he could at least milk every second with you. He walked by your side to your room, sighing when you stopped in front of a door, signaling the end of the night.

“Tonight was a lot of fun,” you smiled, “thank you, Finn.”

“I had a really great time too. But, hey, we still haven’t exchanged numbers or anything.” He wanted to cackle at how absurd it seemed, exchanging numbers with your soulmate, but you handed him your phone and he handed you his. When your phone was back in your hands, you noticed the green heart emoji he’d placed by his name and the grin he wore.

“Cute,” you commented, “goodnight, Finn.” You erased the distance between you two and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, stepping back to admire his expression before you opened the door and began to walk backwards inside.

“Night love,” he replied, trying to prevent a frown as you disappeared into the room and out of sight. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye before he left the next morning, and he could still feel your lips upon his cheek. After a few more seconds of standing there in a multitude of emotions, he made his way to his own room, falling asleep only after reminiscing on the night until his body could no longer take the exhaustion.

Thankfully, Alexa was long passed out by the time you entered the room, so you wouldn’t have to stall sleep any longer; when morning came, however, she was wide awake by the time your eyes even began to flutter open, expecting a detailed recount of the previous night.

Your first thought when your head lifted off the pillow was, no surprise, Finn. While you were still snoozing away, Finn had walked by your room, friends in tow and bags in hand, eyeing the door sadly as he left the hotel for the next town. He was already long gone now, well into his drive, and you and Alexa had to leave for home soon, too.

“Good morning,” Alexa sung, sitting on your bed with a bounce. “I believe I’m owed a story.”

You told her all that had happened, emphasizing how great Finn was and how wonderful, albeit short-lived, the night was. Once you were finished, you thought to check your phone, trying to convince yourself you wouldn’t be disappointed if you hadn’t received a text from Finn.

Fortunately, though, you had.

Still exhausted but last night was well-worth it.

And I made Seth drive as retribution, so it all worked out.

“I’ve never seen you smile at your phone this much except for when you’re looking at puppy pictures,” Alexa remarked, well-aware of what elicited such a reaction from you.

“Shut up,” you laughed, “it’s just really surreal, you know? So, thank you again, seriously.”

She wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, telling you how it was her job as your best friend to help you along the way. “But, you’re driving home,” she said, tossing the keys to you.

“Sure, of course,” you agreed, the very least you could do considering all she had done for you. Before the day truly began and you were forced to get out of bed to prepare for the drive home, you made sure to send Finn a reply.

I’ve been delegated the role of driver, consider yourself lucky.

At home, something unidentifiable felt off, even after you flicked on the lights and switched on the wax melt burner that would soon fill the area with the homely smell of fresh linen. You didn’t want to be here, back to your normal life, as if the night before had never happened and you had simply imagined the entire thing. While you were back in your small town, Finn was back to his superstar career, exploring cities and towns he’d never heard of and couldn’t pronounce. You envied him for that, assuming it was easier for him to avoid mulling over your time together when he had a hectic schedule to tackle.

What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just as difficult for him, half-expecting to see your face in the crowd again and mentally scolding himself for that expectation. Back and forth text messages weren’t sufficing for him; it was your voice and your face he wished to see and hear, but he wasn’t sure even a call could satisfy him, either.

Days passed and you and Finn’s text messaging soon evolved into calls whenever possible, but with such conflicting schedules, they were always cut short by some interruption or another. You appreciated each call nonetheless and Finn’s ability to make you laugh and smile so much despite the distance separating you.

Finn would retell a silly story about his friends and their foolery – his aim always to hear the mellifluous sound of your laugh – and then you’d say your story significantly paled in comparison, but he’d coax it out of you anyway and in the end, both of you would be laughing messes. Occasionally, Finn would even gush about the beauty of the city he was in and promise he’d take you there one day – “and I don’t break a promise,” he grinned.

You and Finn had not seen each other since that first night, though, and it was hard to think about how much longer it’d be until you were together once more, especially now that he’d become a staple of your days. FaceTime quality didn’t do his eyes justice and you were longing to see their oceanic hue physically.

“Hey, what’s Alexa’s number?” Finn spontaneously asked one day, detecting the plain confusion on your face. “Trust me, it’ll all make sense soon.”

So, you cluelessly told him her number, groaning when the only explanation he gave you was “it’s a surprise.” Surprises never usually made you this anxious, but Finn’s behavior had changed since that day, informing you his next few days would be incredibly busy and therefore he wouldn’t be able to talk as much, and Alexa didn’t grant you a single hint, either.

After three days of his odd diminishing presence in your life, you were starting to really wonder what he and Alexa conversed about. It was bugging you so much that you gathered yourself and prepared to head to Alexa’s house and pry the information out of her. She hadn’t caved yet, but Alexa wasn’t the best at keeping secrets and if you prodded enough, it’d come spilling out of her. Just before you could leave, a knock erupted from your front door, and you half-expected Alexa to be standing there even though she hadn’t mentioned her coming over.

Instead, you found Finn there, grinning wider than ever as you looked on in shock.

“Surprise!” he cheered, wrapping his arms around your torso as you briskly flung the door open and threw your arms around his neck. You pulled back slightly to look at his face, which was still overtaken by a smile.

“How the hell are you here, Finn?!” you gaped, burying your head into his shoulder again and feeling the gentle press of his lips to the side of your head.

“I had a lot of help from Alexa,” he chuckled, “the hardest part was not talking to you as much, but I knew I’d give up the surprise if I did.”

“Yeah, I didn’t enjoy that part, either, but having you here makes up for it all,” you exulted. “C’mon, I’ll show you around town. It’s small, but it’s a cute place.”

You took his hand without a second thought, finding a newfound love for having your hands intertwined.

“And this is my favorite café ever,” you pointed, hands still interlocked as you walked down the sidewalk side-by-side. You’d shown him the best restaurants around, the notable statue that stood in the middle of town, and other little sights like the field that would soon sprout endless rows of sunflowers. He watched your eyes gleam as you talked about each place and its significance to you, sometimes losing focus of your words because he was captivated by how vivacious and bubbly your hometown made you. A little ways away was your favorite place in town, the quiet little park that often was the location of picnics and star-gazing; you saved it as your last stop and you hoped he would find it as scenic as you did.

“And here we have paradise,” you motioned your arm out to the vast area of the park, “or, as close as it gets to paradise here.” A study group was perched under a tree, books and papers sprawled out, a few others sat on benches, and someone else was walking their dog, but otherwise, it was still rather empty. On summer days, the place was almost always full, and you were grateful for this bit of rare vacancy.

“It’s lovely,” Finn praised, directing you to one of the benches away from everyone else. It was only when you two had taken a seat that your hands disconnected, the sudden lack of contact feeling strange. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and held it out in front of you two for a picture. He leaned his head against yours and with that, he snapped the first ever picture of you two.

“I always saw couples hanging out here, and I couldn’t help but envy them. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get a moment like this,” you spoke quietly, tracing random patterns onto the wood beside you.

“We took our time finding each other,” Finn agreed, his hand falling atop of yours as his fingers locked with yours. “But I think that makes everything more special.”

You nodded, tearing your eyes away from the place your hands rested and looking at Finn who was already looking at you. And just like the moon pulls the tides and gravity pulls you to earth, something pulled you to Finn until your foreheads were touching and you could feel his breath hit your face. You stayed like that for a few seconds until you came together at once, lips tangling together and bliss blossoming within you. People had always told you kissing your soulmate was an indescribable feeling, a feeling of finally becoming whole, but those spiels didn’t prepare you for this. This was such an electric feeling that it even seemed supernatural, beyond human explanation – perhaps it was.

When you and Finn pulled back simultaneously, breaths much heavier than before, you couldn’t find any words to follow up with. It was more than a relief when Finn spoke first, tendrils of red coating his lips from the fervent kiss itself and your lip tint.

“Let me fly you out to Orlando,” he beseeched, no sign of uncertainty on his face.

“What?”

“You’ve shown me your hometown, and while I can’t exactly take you to Ireland on a whim, I want to bring you to Orlando,” Finn said hopefully. “In a few weeks. I wouldn’t be that crazy,” he laughed, and that gave you plenty of time to sort things out between taking off work and preparing for an essential vacation with Finn.

“I can’t wait,” you accepted, priding yourself in being the reason for his smile when you agreed to his proposition. Though Finn had very limited time here with you, you weren’t as disappointed by that fact as you would have been, because you already had plans to see him again – he’d told you a few of the ideas he had for your time in Florida, and you just hoped these next weeks wouldn’t drag on.

Finn left that same night, apologizing repeatedly for how short his visit was; you would have welcomed a longer stay, but you weren’t mad at his early departure at all. After all, he had arranged such a surprise despite his schedule, and that alone deserved your admiration.

“I’ll see ya soon,” he reminded, brushing strands of hair away from your face as you stood on your porch together in the dark night.

“Soon,” you repeated, turning your cheek into the palm of his hand. “Drive safe, Finn.”

With an exchange of farewells and another electrifying kiss, Finn was off into the night, his car fading into the distance until you could no longer see it. You sighed, already missing his touch and his presence, but you only had three weeks to get through. Just three.

Back in your room, you threw yourself onto your bed and almost instantly fell victim to sleep, the day of adventure wearing you down.

Morning arrived much too soon, your body still weary and desperate for a return to the dream-world, yet your alarm clock read 11:47 A.M. and you couldn’t postpone the day any longer. No, you couldn’t, because today you needed to see Alexa and both thank her yet again for helping Finn surprise you and inform her of your impending trip to Florida – she definitely would nearly burst with excitement for you.

Alexa all but yanked you into her house once you arrived, Buddy tossing out a quick hello once he saw you and congratulating you on finding your soulmate. You shot Alexa a look, one she responded to with a mere shrug, and her fiancé laughed at the unfolding situation.

“She can’t keep quiet about anything,” he quipped, to which he earned a frown from Alexa, and when he kissed her swiftly before leaving the room so you could divulge in girl-talk, you envisioned being similarly domestic with Finn.

“I did keep quiet about Finn’s surprise, though,” she acknowledged, and you had to give it to her, she truly did. After knowing her since high school, you’d figured out her tendency to accidentally confess surprises, so it was a surprise of its own when she managed to keep so tightlipped about Finn’s. “How’d it go, by the way?”

“It was so great,” you affirmed, the faint feeling of Finn’s lips on yours washing over you. “And…he might have asked for me to come to Orlando.”

A shrill gasp slipped out of her mouth, one that had Buddy calling from the other room, “everything okay?” She shouted back a “yes, all good!” while her hands grabbed hold of your arms, the action filling your eyes with surprise.

“Orlando,” she repeated, releasing her grip when you nodded. “Finn’s bringing you to Orlando?! I mean, I know you’re soulmates, but you two might just be the most soulmate-y soulmates out there.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I guess I’m just saying that you two clicked faster and deeper than anyone else I know,” she explained, and you thought about your friends and their soulmates – even Alexa – and tried to find any validity in Alexa’s words. You did feel what Alexa was explaining, a draw to Finn as if the legendary red string of fate was bound between you two. Your worlds were so different yet they molded together so perfectly, carved distinctly for each other. Fate really did know what it was doing, you decided.

Finn had started a routine of texting you the number of days until you were set to come to Florida each morning, a countdown that began at day 20. You watched as each day the number got smaller and smaller, until finally you woke up to see the message you’d been awaiting.

Today!!

The green heart he included beside the word had become his trademark ever since he’d placed it by his contact, and the message wouldn’t have seemed complete without it. When you told him you were getting ready to leave for the airport, he sent you a picture of him smiling, and you began to prepare just a smidge faster because you wanted to see that smile in person as soon as possible.

You had, thankfully, downloaded enough Netflix to make the flight bearable, but you were still beyond pleased to step foot on the solid Earth when the flight was over. Finn had urged you to call him once you arrived as he had promised to pick you up from the airport, and so after you underwent the airport routine, you stood in the middle of hordes of bodies with your luggage snuggly at your side, hoping he’d pick up quickly.

“Hi love!” he greeted, picking up on only the second ring. “Are ya here?”

“I am,” you breathed out, heading out of the crowd to find a calmer area.

“Meet me over by the food court, ‘lright?”

You nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

You had no idea where the damn food court was, this was a much bigger airport than any you’d been in before, but the maps posted throughout did help you out significantly. Eventually, you saw the signs of various restaurants, scouting for Finn, prepared to dial his number again if he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Lookin’ for someone?” a voice behind you asked, and you turned around briskly to see Finn’s open-armed form there, pulling you to him before you could even get out a word.

“Not anymore,” you beamed, giggling as he pressed kisses to the top of your head, your forehead, and finally your lips. He scooped up your luggage easily, ignoring your complaints when you assured him he didn’t have to carry it all. You sighed, giving up, and took his free hand in yours. The skinship was such a comfort, physically connecting you in the same way you were spiritually connected.

Your first day in Florida, Finn suggested, was reserved for spending the day in his house, watching films and simply enjoying each other’s presence. That idea was one you didn’t dispute one bit – a chill day with Finn sounded wonderful, just as wonderful as any other. You’d insisted on a horror movie, but Finn opposed that immediately.

“Aw, you scared, Finn?” you teased, a pillow being tossed at you in response.

“Pft. No,” he shook his head, “just don’t want you to get too scared, y’know?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. So, horror it is?”

“Fine,” he caved, sighing as you scrolled through Netflix for one that didn’t seem horrible. Netflix was known for its array of subpar horror films, and if you were going to make Finn watch one with you, you at least wanted it to be good. You settled for Veronica, a movie you’d heard positive reviews about, and brought yourself closer to Finn once he draped a blanket over your bodies.

You soon found out you couldn’t watch horror movies with Finn because he not only jumped anytime the music even slightly picked up, but he yelled at every decision the characters made that ultimately led to their demise. Of course, you, too, thought the main characters of horror movies were a little incompetent, but you usually kept your thoughts contained in your mind. Finn let them all out with little regard.

“Stupid,” he chided, “why would they open the door?!”

“I don’t know, Finn,” you laughed, “I’ll be sure to ask them for you.”

“Ha, ha, funny.” He flicked your forehead but then wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him – essentially into his lap – and sighed into your hair. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You smiled, burying into his chest. “Me too, Finn.”

Your time in Florida came and went too fast, until your final day arrived and you could barely bring yourself to get out of bed that morning. You wanted to delay the day, because come tomorrow, you’d be back at the airport, leaving Finn behind. And this time, you weren’t sure when you’d see him again, a thought that had been on the back burner of your brain.

The one thing you would be able to hold on to, besides the memories, was the plethora of pictures you and Finn had taken over your stay. Looking at them at home would certainly bring you deep saudade, but they would also remind you of how wonderful being in Florida with Finn had been. It almost made you forget that you had went so many years without him in your life – now, it seemed as if you’d known him forever.

In the evening, Finn revealed his plan for a memorable last day in Florida – he wanted to take you to the beach at sunset, and you were all for the idea. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d been to the beach, considering there was none around you, and the weather was perfect.

When your bare feet hit the soft sand – thankfully not overwhelmingly hot – you squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled the scent of the salty ocean, the atmosphere so fitting for a farewell to Florida. The setting sun had painted the sky hues of orange, pink, and blue, reflecting into the ocean.

You gazed out into the horizon, the ocean seemingly never-ending, and Finn took your hand in his, walking closer to where the waves met the shore. The two of you walked along the beach, admiring the sunset and each other, and you felt totally, utterly whole, embracing this fragment of pure paradise.

“Does this make us official?” Finn questioned, suddenly stopping his movement and consequently halting you as well. You turned in his arms, noticing the hopeful glimmer in his eyes. You hadn’t even realized there wasn’t a label on you and Finn’s relationship besides soulmates, which you guessed was a label.

“We’re soulmates,” you smiled, “I think we’ve been official from the start.”

“Oh, thank God,” he chuckled, lifting you into his arms and cutting your surprised gasp short with a kiss. It was different than the rest, more passionate, and you suddenly felt a hell of a lot more against leaving tomorrow. The thought of having your time with Finn ripped away by distance and the life you had to return to stung, burned deeper in your heart than anything else. Finn noticed the way your face dropped despite how happy you looked just seconds ago. “Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“How am I gonna leave tomorrow?” you spoke sadly, the disappointment in your voice penetrating Finn’s heart. “You’ve made these past few days the best, and…then it’s all going to go away.”

“Shhh, no, no,” he disagreed, resting his forehead on yours, “it’s not going away. We’ll figure things out, and we’ll see each other again real soon, okay?”

You nodded, though when you left the next day, blinking back tears when he kissed you goodbye and waved as you walked away, you weren’t sure if you believed his words.

Back at home, just as you had figured, it felt like returning to reality after living a fantasy. The harsh reality was Finn had a crazy schedule as a wrestler, you had a life back home, and with the combination of those two things, your relationship was going to be anything but easy.

However, you and Finn made things work better than you would have ever expected – he came to visit you whenever he could, and you did the same, though it was difficult appeasing both of your schedules. After eight months of this, Finn finally decided to ask what he had been thinking for a bit now, though he kept it to himself, fearful of your response. At some point, he realized the worst you could do was say no, and he’d have to accept that.

“I was thinking,” he began over the phone one night, preparing himself for your reaction. “Maybe you could come live with me?” He posed it more as a question, noticing the shock that flooded your face. You hadn’t been expecting that, and while you wanted nothing more than to be closer to him, you weren’t sure you could just up and leave your friends, your hometown, your job, your life.

“Live with you?” you repeated, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Finn…”

He sighed, backtracking immediately because he assumed your tone meant your rejection. “No, love, it’s fine, I understand. It was stupid of me to ask.”

“No, no! It wasn’t stupid. Just…I need to think about it, alright? I can’t just leave so suddenly.”

“Right,” he nodded, “that’s all I can ask.”

And you thought about it, you really did, staying up late some nights contemplating it. You even talked with Alexa about it, and while she admitted she would miss you endlessly, she encouraged you to live with him – her biggest point was that Finn was your soulmate, and you had already gone so long without him that spending any more time apart seemed like a travesty. So, you bade her a tearful temporary goodbye and returned home, calling up Finn the second you’d stepped inside.

“Hi babe,” you greeted cheerfully, smiling once you heard his voice on the other end. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking, and…I decided I wanna come live with you.”

Making the switch from life in your sleepy little town to Orlando was difficult, but Finn showed you all his favorite spots nearby that he hoped you’d enjoy, too. It was still so odd seeing Finn much more often considering your time together was always so limited, but of course he was still gone frequently. And unfortunately, it much harder to alleviate your heartache in a city that was still quite foreign to you – at home, at least you had Alexa and your favorite café and park. Here, you were reminded of Finn’s absence everywhere you looked – the empty spot in bed beside you, the one that belonged to him, the pictures hung on his wall featuring his friends, family, and even you, the kitchen that you often would walk into in the morning and find Finn in, making breakfast in just sweatpants. It all brought the waves of missing him to your being, and the tears usually spilled when you realized you’d be in this house, in this place, alone for more days to come.

You tried to convince Finn you were adjusting to this new life, and you were, somewhat, but it was too much to absorb all at once, and he could see right through you. He hated leaving you behind, but there wasn’t much he could do besides reassure you each time he left that he’d be back as soon as possible. Soon never felt soon enough.

It didn’t make sense to you how you had gone for so long without Finn, yet now that you had found him, it always hurt being without him. The distance, the timezones, it all hurt, yet ironically, the actual soulmate pain you felt whenever he was in the ring had become so miniscule. You guessed that was just the way being soulmates worked.

One night was particularly plagued by your missing of Finn, even though he had told you he would be back that same night. You could barely even feel excited to see him because your mind was consumed by so many other things and it was no surprise that he’d only be home for a couple of days. He’d be gone again and the cycle would continue and you weren’t sure if you could let it continue any longer.

When the sound of keys turning and the door opening came, you turned around for only a split second, forcing a smile when Finn dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around you.

“I missed you,” he sighed out, pressing a kiss directly onto your jawline that would have had you giggling any other time. But not tonight.

“Missed you too,” you whispered, feeling guilty when his eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, fingers holding your chin to face him as he studied your face. “You were crying,” he noted, voice tinged with his own sadness at the thought of you crying alone while he was away.

“I’m fine,” you lied, using your shirt sleeves to wipe your eyes.

“That’s the biggest lie anyone’s ever told.”

His eyes were boring into you, and not just into the surface of you, but deep within you, below the layers of skin and right down to the core. That’s where you kept everything stowed away, and Finn wasn’t going to let up until you told him what was on your mind.

“This just…it sucks, Finn. Being away from you feels like there’s a hole in my heart, and I hate it because I thought finding you would get rid of that hole,” you rambled, “but it only made it bigger.” It hurt you even more watching his eyes lose their usual radiance, instead filling with sorrow. He wasn’t sure what to say to make the situation better, and maybe he couldn’t say anything at all. His mouth felt dry but his eyes felt the opposite, fighting back tears.

“You think it doesn’t hurt me, too?” he murmured, “I hate the distance and I hate being gone all the time, but this is what I do. This is what I’ve always done.”

“And I understand that. I respect that. But being alone in a place I barely know…I just can’t do it right now.”

You walked over to the dresser that contained most of your clothes, throwing some of them onto the bed so you could pack them into a bag. He caught a few of the items as you tossed them, searching for the proper words to say.

“Where are you going?” he asked, fearful of the response.

One last item was thrown from your dresser, and then you found a nearby bag and shoved it all inside, the tears freely spilling onto the pile of shirts, pants, and other articles. “I’m going home, Finn.”

It still wasn’t clear to you how long you’d return home for, but you knew you needed to get away for some time. And though seeing Finn like he was at that moment broke your heart into absolute pieces, you slung your bag over your shoulder and made for the door.

“No, no, no, love,” he sputtered out, placing a hand on either side of your face, “you can’t leave, not like this.”

“Give me time, Finn, please. That’s all I ask.”

You gave him all that you could, planting your lips on his just before you walked out and held yourself back from turning around and running into his arms. He could taste the tears that escaped and cascaded down your face, a taste that remained bitterly on his lips for the rest of the night. The emptiness beside him that night felt different than the emptiness he felt any other night he wasn’t with you – this time, it felt haunting. He didn’t know when you’d come back.

When you showed up at Alexa’s doorstep in the early hours in the morning, she had to wipe the sleep from her eyes, convinced she was still dreaming. The image remained, and she woke completely, gasping as she saw your bag in hand and the angry streaks painting your face from crying. Neither of you spoke, the sobs wracking your body once she engulfed you in the tightest hug she could manage. You had created the situation, yet the weight of your action was only now hitting you; you wondered if Finn was just as broken as you were.

Alexa didn’t pry information out of you like she usually would, understanding you would explain everything when you felt up to it. While you were back home, you tried to gather yourself and your thoughts so you could eventually talk with Finn and sort it all out. You didn’t know how that would go or what the outcome would be, but you were missing Finn greatly, reading each of the texts he sent and listening to each of the voicemails he left.

After nearly two weeks, the texts and voicemails ceased, all attempts at contact from Finn lost. You weren’t sure if that was him giving up, but that’s all you could see it as, and you felt the hole in your heart only widen. It was so deep and large now that it felt like your soul could get sucked into it. The only thing on your mind now was getting back to Finn. You knew now that you couldn’t leave the minute things got hard; Finn was hurting, too, and you had only considered your own pain.

“Y/N!” Alexa called – you’d been staying at her house ever since you came home – “someone’s here to see you.”

You made your way to the door, noticing the sly smile she wore as you walked past her. Beyond the door, standing there with a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, was Finn. “I gave you time,” he reminded, “now please say that’s enough, because I think I’ll explode if I go one more second without you.”

There was only one thing you could think to do, so you took the flowers in your hand and held them away so they wouldn’t get before throwing your arms around Finn’s neck and holding him closer to you than ever before. He froze for a second, the contact throwing him off after the length of time without seeing or touching you, but then he felt at home once more, wrapping his arms around your back and kissing your forehead. When you pulled away, the smiles both of you donned made it clear somehow, some way, things would work out. You were soulmates after all, this was your destiny. Finn was your destiny.

“I didn’t know if sunflowers were your favorite, but I remembered how much you love that sunflower field,” he explained.

“I love them,” you assured, pulling his face towards yours so you could make up for the weeks of lost time with a fairytale-esque kiss. It was cut short when both of you ended up smiling into the kiss, laughing about it afterwards.

“And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you beamed, the words finally being exchanged between you and Finn. Alexa’s applause could be heard from inside, and you turned around to jokingly flip her off. In return, you received a hand-heart from her; when you turned back around, you noticed Finn chuckling at the two of you.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked Alexa for bringing you to me,” Finn remarked. You never would have imagined a simple suggestion Alexa made would have led to this very moment, to finding your soulmate, to finding Finn. Yeah, you definitely owed her more than you could ever give her in a lifetime.

“I don’t think I’ve thanked her enough,” you smiled, eyes fluttering shut as Finn pressed a kiss to your nose. Of course, you didn’t know what the future held and what struggles lied ahead, but there was one thing you were absolutely certain of. Fate had led you to Finn, had led Finn to you, and you would endure the difficulties and the pain if it meant you could wake up to those blue eyes of his for the rest of your time on Earth.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor fanfic #finn balor x reader #finn balor one shot #finn balor fic #finn balor fluff #finn balor angst #WWE Fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe one shot #wwe fluff #wwe angst #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine

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jinterlude · 6 years

Text

Our Second Chance (Ch.2)

➳ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female OC

➳ Genre(s): Modern!AU, Royalty!AU, Modern Royal Family!AU , Enemies turned Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Romance, & Angst

➳ Words: 5.5K

➳ Summary: Have you ever gotten that familiar feeling when you first see someone? That strange connection between yourselves even though you have no clue where that came from. Yeah…that was the sensation that Sumin felt on a daily basis ever since she has come face-to-face with the one and only Kim Seokjin. Despite being named after their ancestors, two people who were madly in love with each other, these two cannot stand to be in each other’s presence. However, that must change or else history will repeat itself. Sounds like an adventure, right?

※ Previously: ch.1

※ Next time: ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | coming soon!

Chapter 2 – You are so Infuriating!

Previously

Seokjin’s hostility towards Sumin were idiotic, and he needed a to see the real Sumin. Not some fake one concocted by the tabloids.

Before he could create some elaborate plan to get Seokjin to date Sumin, Namjoon felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and looked down, immediately meeting Sumin’s hopeful gaze.

Fuck his life.

“So, what did he say?” Sumin asked, trying to make the eagerness in her voice.

Namjoon exhaled deeply as his cheeks puffed.

“Yeah…he said no…” He answered awkwardly.

Sumin looked taken back. Why had he said no? Great. Here came a storm of questions, creating almost a hurricane within her mind. She had developed that reaction whenever she became anxious over something, especially when the nerves resulted from an important issue at hand.

“What? Why? He hasn’t even seen me yet…That makes little to no sense.”

“Oh…time to tell you a story, my dear Sumin…”

Her heart raced against her chest, pounding as if someone played with it like a drum. Soft tones of red painted her cheeks as her feet created carpet prints from all the pacing she had done. Her hands flew up in the air. Her voice, an octave higher.

Short growls managed to escape whenever Sumin took a breath or when she no longer found the right words to spew out.

Why had she allowed this man to rile her up to the point of venting to her dear female friend?

Better question was—why was Kim fucking Seokjin preoccupying her mind 24/7? If it had been any other person, Sumin would have ghosted him or her. She respected herself enough to never allow someone attack her the way Seokjin did. Nope. Never.

Yet…

Here she was. Walking back and forth, in a perfect straight line, as she poured her innermost feelings to Sowon, a newly appointed queen and dearest and truest friend. Well, aside from Namjoon.

These two ladies had met at Sumin’s engagement party. While Namjoon conversed with his buddies, Sumin wondered around the ballroom until she accidentally bumped into someone and caused the victim to spill the contents of their drink. Naturally, Sumin, who had been quite flustered, apologized like her life depended on it, and the person laughed and commented how cute she was being. The person then introduced herself as Sowon, princess and soon-to-be queen once she was of age. Sumin blushed from embarrassment, while stuttering over her own name—the downside of being incredibly shy.

“You know Sumin…I think you and I will get along just wonderfully.” Sowon commented with a friendly smile.

Sumin’s eyes widened, obviously shocked with the sudden new friend.

“Oh! Uh…okay!”

And, the rest was history…

“I still can’t believe that twat implied that I was some sort of heartbreaker! Like, did his brain even remotely think that, “Hmm…I think those rumors are indeed false, and Princess Sumin is this wonderful and down-to-earth girl.” UGH!” exclaimed Sumin before emitting a frustrated fueled groan.

Sowon chuckled softly, finding it rather amusing that her best friend was getting extremely worked up over someone. From all her years of being her friend, Sowon had never once seen Sumin get this worked up. Normally, Sumin would brush off those types of attacks.

Yet, here she was, pacing back and forth in the lounge of her bedroom, ranting as if her life depended on it.

This Kim Seokjin fella must be special to her.

“I know! Usually, the heartbreaker title belongs to me,” Sowon began, pushing herself off the wall she rested against, “Something must be wrong with this person. I think he’s confused in the head.” She finished, flinging her arm around Sumin’s shoulders.

A look of displeasure graced Sumin’s face. She was always one to rarely accept signs of affection—regardless if it was on a romantic or platonic level. She’d shy away from those types of actions.

Tiny groans soon followed the displeased expression. While with Sowon, the widest grin appeared on her conniving lips as she knew how uncomfortable Sumin was. Honestly, Sowon knew Sumin better than she knew herself. It was quite terrifying.

“Okay, can you let me go now? I think that’s enough affection for the day…” asked Sumin, feeling Sowon’s grip tighten. This woman…

Sowon patted the poor princess on the head, further annoying her, “Fine but just know that I love you, and we will get through this rough patch together.”

Sumin’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor as she questioned herself why she was still friends with this queen.

Oh—that was right—she was too shy for her own good, so any forms of camaraderie were rare.

Yeah…

She should go see a therapist or something…

Sumin then swatted Sowon’s hand away and smoothed out her hair.

“Wait, how on Earth did we get off track?” asked Sumin as she finally realized that they were no longer talking about Seokjin but instead acting as if they had a couple’s spat and now were patching things up.

Sowon simply shrugged, “I don’t know, but I got you to stop talking about Seokjin though.”

Then, as if she said the magic word, Sowon triggered Sumin yet again.

“Speaking of which, he’s not even that good looking I don’t understand why people say that he’s one of the, if not the handsomest gentleman to ever exist. If anything, his looks are about average. Shit…Namjoon is even handsomer than him!” proclaimed Sumin; her voice reached an octave higher than normal.

A long sigh escaped her lips as Sowon hung her head low. There she went on her famous and rather long rants. She had to put a stop to it, especially if she wanted to have time to prepare for her first of many dates with Prince Jungkook.

Sowon waved her arms frantically and shouted at Sumin, earning the princess’s undivided attention before she truly went off.

“How about this, since I am, after all, queen, I will propose a marriage alliance in which Seokjin will be engaged to my cousin. She has a thing for idiots, and you’ll be scotch free!” she proposed, stifling a laughter that slowly formed in her chest.

Sumin stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched. Marriage? To another?

If this were any other guy, she’d be jumping at the chance to get rid of him. Yet…something stopped her. Something clicked in her mind. Like, someone held her shoulder, preventing her from moving towards Sowon.

Whatever this was—Sumin disliked it. She disliked it majorly.

“I’m one phone call away from offering my cousin up to Seokjin.” Sang Sowon, hovering her finger over the “call” button.

Sumin groaned, stomping her feet on the plush carpet.

“Don’t!” she shouted, turning to face Sowon, who was busy grinning and showing off her locked phone. “You weren’t going to call anyone, were you?” Sumin asked with a blank face.

Sowon shook her head as tiny chuckles managed to escape.

“Besides, I think it would be rather funny to have you two meet again! Especially, after what you told me when Namjoon explained to you why that pretty boy despised your guts.” She said.

“Don’t remind me…” Sumin mumbled.

Sumin gawked after hearing the words that came out Namjoon’s mouth. Was he being serious right now? The only freaking reason why Seokjin would not go on a date with her and at least try to form a relationship was that he believed those motherfucking tabloids. Instead of being painted as the people’s princess, Seokjin saw her as the kingdom’s stuck up heartbreaker. This little man eater that had different fellas in her bed every single night.

That had to be the farthest from her true self—her true persona. Why could he not see that?

“Are you okay, Sumin? You’re unnaturally quiet about this…” Namjoon asked, carefully picking his words.

Sumin clenched and unclenched her hands. This unspeakable anger bubbled within the pits of her stomach. Her breathing grew heavy. Her bottom lip practically disappeared.

Namjoon cautiously walked up to the trembling woman. He gently placed a warm hand on her shoulder, but the moment his hand touched her clothed skin, Sumin unleashed Hell.

“That. Spineless. Idiotic. Jellyfish!” She practically screamed, causing Namjoon to quickly cover his ears.

He slowly uncovered them, though ready to do it again just in case she wasn’t quite done. He waited ten more seconds before deeming it safe to keep his precious ears uncovered.

“Those are pretty colorful words, Sumin.” Teased Namjoon, earning himself an icy cold glare from the princess.

“Shut up, Namjoon. I can’t believe that he’s believing those tasteless rumors instead of giving me a chance!” Sumin complained; her voice raised in octave.

“Yeah. Well. For having earned his bachelor’s degree, Seokjin isn’t that smart.”

Namjoon’s sentence echoed throughout her mind—on repeat—like a broken record.

Sumin stared blankly at a random spot on the wall while with Sowon, she couldn’t help but feel helpless for her dear friend.

Wait.

That was it.

Sumin needed to stop being her dear friend and this charismatic princess. She needed to be this princess that radiated confidence.

Sowon developed a fool proof plan in her intelligent brain. Her level of intelligence was practically on par with Namjoon. Go her.

“Well, I have an idea, my soft and cuddly princess. You just need to channel… well channel your inner me.”

“I’m not going to like this, aren’t I?”

A few days later, Sumin stared deeply at her laptop screen. Her right index finger circled the rim of her wine glass as she muttered every other word on a document. A document that had been sent to her by her personal assistant and most-trustworthy confidant.

Her fingers lightly tapped the keys as the surge of creativity flowed through her veins. Tiny mumbles was only thing audible from the princess as she quickly read over her strongly worded letter to the royal families of both Thailand and Malaysia.

According to her resources, Seokjin had spent countless of years to seal the trading deal with those families but failed miserably. Both of the kings had flat out rejected him, citing that they would “only do deals with a member of a royal family”.

Ouch. That had to hurt his pride since, after all, Seokjin held the title of “Duke” in his kingdom.

“I swear…their mindsets remind me of King Ji Yong…” Sumin bitterly thought as her body tensed slightly but soon relaxed. Just the mere thought of that terrible king sent shivers down her spine.

She was so glad that her kingdom were on the right path to restoring their true family traditions. Not some bullshit that King Ji Yong created to make sure that their family remained pure.

News flash. No one had pure royal blood in her family.

Now reading over the last line, Sumin smiled proudly to herself before editing her letter. If she wanted Seokjin to even consider her deal, then the letter had to be flawless.

With a firm nod, Sumin clicked “save” and then “print”. She rolled over to her printer and picked up the important piece of document. Then, she rolled back to her desk, grabbed her favorite fountain pen, and signed it.

For added measure, she added her family’s royal symbol and then sealed it inside an envelope.

Then, something had dawned on her. While yes, she had managed to uncover Seokjin’s struggles with Thailand and Malaysia, she had failed to discover the location of his company.

“You jumped the gun, Sumin…” She muttered under her breath as she picked up her office’s phone and quickly dialed the number of the one person who held the missing puzzle piece.

Before it could reach the third ring, a familiar voice happily greeted Sumin.

“How’s it going with being a stalker, Sumin?” asked the person with a playful tone.

Sumin rolled her eyes, “Ha-ha. Very funny, Namjoon,” She said sarcastically, “Look, I need a favor.” She added.

“What kind of favor? Please tell me I don’t have to act like the dutiful fiancé. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love being your friend but when your family asks us to kiss…yeah…no. Just no.” Namjoon stated, feeling the urge to gag.

Sumin nearly choked, “Yeah. No. The favor doesn’t involve you acting like my love-stricken fiancé. I actually need to know the location of Seokjin’s office.”

On Namjoon’s end, he couldn’t help but raise his brow. He found it rather odd that she was asking for the address of Seokjin’s business.

Wanting to be on the careful side of the spectrum, Namjoon asked her why, drawing out the last syllable.

Meanwhile, with Sumin, the temptation to punch him increased with each passing second.

“I’m waiting Princess Sumin…” she heard Namjoon taunt.

Before speaking, Sumin slowly inhaled then exhaled.

“I need to know where his company is because I decided to help him out and write a rather convincing letter to the royal families of Malaysia and Thailand, so that way he can finally seal the deal.” Sumin explained with gritted teeth.

Namjoon’s chuckles was heard through on her end followed by the address of Seokjin’s company. He then instructed her to behave herself while she was there.

“Try not to maim him, okay?” Namjoon quickly added before hanging up.

Sumin rolled her eyes yet again. She could swear that she had been doing that quite frequently whenever she talked with him.

One of the many privileges of being his friend, she assumed. She placed the phone back on its dock and turned off her desk lamp. She grabbed the envelope and walked towards the door.

Just as she turned off the main light, an amusing thought occurred in her mind,

“Prepare yourself, Lord Seokjin. I’m about to offer you a deal that you can’t possibly refuse.”

And as if someone pressed the fast-forward button, the crescent moon lowered itself behind the horizon and soon, the beautiful sun took its place high in the sky. Birds sang the song of romance while a few butterflies danced with each other.

The nice, calming breeze brushed through the green leaves as it made its way towards a window—a princess’s window to be exact.

The soft wind fanned her face, causing the tired princess to open her eyes. A faint groan escaped her precious lips as she tried her hardest to focus on the time on her clock.

Then, her eyes shot opened. She scrambled out of bed and ran towards the bathroom, shedding off her pajamas in the process.

Yeah.

It was safe to assume Sumin ran late for her “meeting” with Seokjin.

Today would either make or break her. Today would decide her fate. Her fate regarding her marriage to Namjoon.

No pressure…

With the lights shining brightly in her bathroom, Sumin had a better look at her appearance in the mirror. Before hopping in the shower, she did a quick glance over, concocting the perfect look to entice Seokjin—or at least earn her the right type of judgement from him.

“I think my usual natural, yet elegant look will do the trick. Both Sowon and Namjoon had said that my natural beauty was my number one feature.” She thought as she shrugged off her bathrobe and got inside the shower.

Thirty minutes later, she resurfaced, smelling like a sweet flower. She ran her towel all over body, hoping the fabric picked up all the droplets that lingered. Then, once all the droplets disappeared, she gently rubbed her towel on her scalp before wrapping it around her head.

Sumin exited the steamy bathroom and walked over to her rather large walk-in closet. She headed over to the section where her casual clothes hung around and picked out the perfect combination for the Spring day. She settled with a pastel green blouse and black skirt with white polka dots. She then chose her favorite pair of wedges before exiting.

Looking at the time, she quickly blew dry her hair and then curled it, creating nice loose ringlets. Once that was done, Sumin swiftly did her makeup before rushing out her bedroom. She hurried down the stairs and greeted everyone and anyone that came into her line of sight. After, she requested for the driver to take her somewhere, not caring if her tummy had been empty as she walked out to the garage.

Now mouthing the lyrics to the song that played over the radio, Sumin sat anxiously in her car. Nerves bested her as she had skipped breakfast. She didn’t even want her emergency mixed berry smoothie.

What on Earth had Seokjin done to her? Ever since she had seen his picture, that strange sensation in the back of her mind grew stronger each day. She would find herself in the family archives, staring at her ancestor’s portrait. If that wasn’t freaky enough, Sumin would talk to it, begging for advice or some sort of sign that Seokjin would be the one to get her out of the arranged marriage with Namjoon.

One could only hope…

After what seemed like an eternity of driving, Sumin snapped out of her thoughts once she heard the driver announce they had arrived at Seokjin’s company.

Sumin smiled politely at the driver and told him she would call him if she needed a ride back. The driver bowed in respect, smiling and acknowledging his new orders. He then exited the driver’s side and rushed over to Sumin’s door, though, he knew it would be pointless since his princess liked doing things herself. He would never understand the rumors that circled around. The rumors where it stated that she was this lazy, underappreciating person. Those slandering words had to be stopped. If only there was something he and the rest of the workers could do.

Snapping back into reality, the driver kindly bid Sumin farewell before returning to the driver’s seat and driving off.

Sumin stayed until the vehicle was no longer seen. She then turned her body towards the building; her eyes widened at the intimidating, skyscraper that Seokjin called a business.

Her heartbeat sped up. Her breathing grew sporadic. Here came the unwanted the nerves that she had spent a majority of the morning containing. Yeah. That was a waste of her efforts.

“You can do this, Sumin. This is just like any other meeting. You are fierce. You are confident. Do not let the haters get to you. You know your truth.” Sumin chanted repeatedly as she strode over to the double glass doors and grabbed the handle.

She pulled it slowly, earning an alarm expression from the receptionist.

The female receptionist, who appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties, looked at the princess; her expression visibly surprised. Why was another kingdom’s princess visiting? More importantly, why was she here visiting her workplace? Oh no… what had her boss done this time?

Seokjin’s infamous arrogance was almost always the reason why visiting members of a royal family appeared in front of her eyes.

Great. Just flipping great.

“Excuse me? Do you know where Seokjin’s office is located at?” The receptionist heard Sumin ask, “Um, Ms. Lee?”

Ms. Lee shook her heard briefly, snapping herself back into reality.

“Of course, your highness. He is located at the top floor. The fiftieth floor to be precise. I believe he is currently in there preparing for his 11 o’clock board meeting.” She answered with a polite smile.

Sumin smiled sweetly and bowed her head; a tiny gesture that said, “Thank you.”

Before Sumin could turn away and walk towards the elevator, she heard Ms. Lee say something. Sumin hummed in response, then asked if she could repeat what she had said.

“I know it is none of my business, your highness, but I just wanted to tell you that I had those vicious rumors about you—”

“Pardon my interruption but before you have an opinion about my so called “personality”, please get to know me first and then decide whether those stories are true or not.” Sumin chimed in, ready to defend herself.

Ms. Lee became alarmed—flustered even. She did not want this headstrong, yet lovable princess think the worse of her and lump her with those idiotic “news” reporters.

“Of course, not princess! I was about to tell you that I do not believe such trashy words that those people had written about you. Believe it or not, but my parents would tell me tales of your grandfather’s reign. If I recall correctly, he was extremely good friends with my king. People would go on to say that they had been the best of friends. Practically brothers, so I personally do not understand where those fake reporters are getting their information from.” Ms. Lee said with hints of frustration in her voice.

Sumin couldn’t help but smile after hearing Ms. Lee’s rant. It honestly made her feel a bit of joy to hear someone defend her honor. Now, Sumin only wished that Seokjin could see the light and do the same.

Only time would tell… Let’s just hope he’d see reason and give her a fair chance.

Sumin sighed softly with a small smile before thanking the receptionist for being both helpful and lifting her spirits. Ms. Lee happily told the princess that she did not have to thank her as she was only stating her feelings.

Sumin bid her a fond farewell before walking towards the elevator, where her journey to Seokjin continued…

After a few minutes in the elevator, the doors opened. Sumin’s body tensed at the sight of like a hundred office workers staring in awe at her. An awkward smile graced her lips as Sumin didn’t think of anything else to do except give them a shy wave.

That shy wave caused the poor princess to nervously chuckle. God, she wanted to bury herself in a hole and never come up. Sumin bitterly thought that the Gods made her a princess as a form of torture because she was born more on the introverted side of the spectrum. Funny, right?

Sumin anxiously stepped out of the elevator and politely asked where Seokjin’s office was at.

In an instant, every single finger on that floor all pointed at a certain direction. Sumin was unsure she should find that action funny or rather scary.

She quickly bowed deeply as she shouted a quick thanks before stepping forward towards the direction of Seokjin’s office.

Each time she had passed an office worker, she’d bowed her head politely, smiling softly to every one of them. After all, they were people too. Just like her.

With each step she took, the more she closed the gap between herself and Seokjin. As she passed each office worker, she wanted to stop in her tracks. Why? Well, that was I because she heard yet another office worker defending her so to speak.

“I told you those rumors were false! Princess Sumin is nothing like how the tabloids painted her out to be.”

Sumin sighed softly with a sincere smile as she finally closed the gap between her Seokjin’s office.

Let’s just hope that lady luck lingered around when she came face-to-face with Seokjin…

Lightly knocking on his door, Sumin opened slowly, peeking her head through. Her heart skipped beat at the sight of his back towards her. The lighting created this holy aura around him, making him appear to be “good to be true”.

She continued to stare at Seokjin’s backside; her mouth dropped just a smidge. Seriously—could you blame her?

Then, it had been cut short when she heard a rather angry voice.

“What are YOU doing here?!”

Sumin flinched from the harsh tone of voice. Okay, she took it back. Any tiny romantic that were in development had been squashed immediately. The only emotion she felt towards that thoughtless fool was pure annoyance and anger. Now, she rather marry Namjoon while Seokjin jumped off a bridge.

“Wow. Is that anyway you talk to someone who is of a higher title than you?” Sumin asked with narrowed eyes.

Seokjin rolled his eyes in response. He wasn’t about to play Sumin’s little game—or he wasn’t until Sumin added a little snide remark that easily riled him up.

“You know what? It probably is, especially after you said that you wouldn’t go on a date with some stuck-up princess who so happens to be a heartbreaker as well but as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t go out with some arrogant asshole who is pretty much too stupid to think for himself and has to rely what he reads in the magazines.” Sumin said as a devious smirk slowly appeared on her lips.

Yup.

That did it.

Seokjin threw his papers onto his desk and practically stomped over to the princess. His face red with anger as he closed the gap between their bodies fairly quickly.

Unknowingly, Sumin backed up; her back hitting the wall lightly. However, she wasn’t about to back down. She never backed down to anyone, especially a man.

“You don’t even know me, Princess Sumin.” Seokjin began but was soon interrupted.

“And you don’t even know me, Sir Seokjin.” Sumin matched his cold glare.

Seokjin growled in annoyance. This princess got his nerves.

“Well, sorry sweetheart, but I don’t want to even be in the same vicinity as you let alone actually talk to you.” He stated, smirking.

Sumin scoffed, “One, don’t call me sweetheart. Two, I was right to call you stupid since not only are we in the same vicinity, as you “kindly” mentioned, but you are also talking to me,” She paused, clicking her tongue, “Yeah, I don’t think I want my future offspring to inherit your stupidity,” She then mustered the sweetest smile ever, “So, thank you for turning me down. You saved me the effort of having to reject your sorry ass later on.” She finished her speech with a bang.

Unfortunately, that was only the beginning. The both of them refused to back down. Their voices raised in pitch every time a new argument came out of their respective mouths.

As they were spewing words after words, this foreign sensation filled their hearts. Their minds became a muddled mess yet Seokjin and Sumin still had a little bit of control over themselves. They knew what they were saying yet not really.

If anything, the way they were arguing almost seemed like if their ancestors were taking control over them…

“I’m telling you for the last time, you stupid knight-in-training, you cannot tell me what to do. You are not my father, the KING of this realm, nor are you my mother, the QUEEN. Now, kindly leave me alone or else I am going to force feed you some mud.” A fifteen-year-old Sumin said, threatening her annoying yet dearest friend. Her only friend.

A sixteen-year-old Seokjin rolled his eyes and stuck his sword into the ground.

“My job as your future personal knight is to keep you safe, so why not start now? I mean, I am around you almost all the time.” He argued with a knowing gleam in his eyes.

Sumin sighed loudly; the feeling of pure annoyance washed over face. She crossed her arms as she walked up to him.

Seokjin’s eyes widened; his lips parted just a smidge. Lately, he had noticed that his heart would skip a beat and/or speed up whenever Sumin was this close to him. His cheeks warmed up as a light reddish color appeared.

He glanced at her eyes before quickly averting them. He turned his body slightly, not wanting Sumin to see his blush.

It sucked falling in love with your best friend and feeling unsure if she’d return his feelings or not.

Yet… Little did he know. Little did he know…

Heavy pants filled the room. Their courageous stares never faltered. Their chests touched each other as Sumin and Seokjin couldn’t help but wonder…

What on Earth did they feel? What caused them to argue for an entire hour? It was if someone had possessed their bodies and unleased a month of pent up frustrations towards each other.

Feeling a bit unsure, Seokjin took a step back, creating some space between them, however, it involved a bit more mental strength on his end. For some reason, he didn’t want to be away from Sumin. He didn’t want that space between them.

Seokjin mentally slapped himself and quickly blamed on being sexually frustrated. It had been quite some time since he last had sex with a female, so it made sense. No way he felt any sort of attraction towards the princess. No way. Hell would have to freeze over in order for that to happen.

While with Sumin, on the outside, she was indifferent, but on the inside, she freaked the fuck out. Her eyes glanced at his plump lips for a millisecond before she averted them. She observed how prominent his jawline was, and how noticeable his Adam’s apple was.

Her heart pounded against her chest. If Seokjin had some sort of super hearing, she could’ve sworn that he’d hear it. Her cheeks were flushed as if she stood out in the blazing heat, and her lips were slightly agape. What was wrong with her? Any form of an infatuation had been longed gone the moment Seokjin said those hurtful, deceitful things about her. She had nothing but borderline hatred for him, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Okay…she had to have a one-on-one session with her personal assistant at their favorite go-to coffee shop. This was not okay!

Before Sumin could fully dive into her mental rants, she stopped herself. Whenever she ranted about everything and anything, besides pacing back and forth, Sumin tend to look pretty much everywhere in the room she was in.

Lucky her, her brain finally registered a familiar painting that hung up in the corner of his office. She squinted her eyes, hoping to gain a better look of the face. Then, seconds later, her eyes widened.

A tiny gasp escaped her lips as she instantly recognized that Seokjin’s ancestor. She had noticed a familiar hilt that she only ever knew one person who that specific design. Kim Seokjin I.

She had seen detailed paintings and drawings that her ancestor, Sumin I, had done in her journals.

Oh, my goodness…

She had to have it now. Sumin knew of the demise of their romance because of what King Ji Yong had done, so she wanted Sumin I’s portrait to be next to Seokjin I’s at least. Even though they weren’t together when they were alive, their paintings would be.

With a firm nod, Sumin turned to face Seokjin, who in return raised his brow, finding her actions odd.

“Where did you get that painting?” asked Sumin, trying to keep her face neutral as possible.

Seokjin scoffed softly, “Why do you want to know?”

“Just answer me, you annoying prick.” Sumin replied with an annoyed expression.

“Wow. Who would of thought that the princess knew such foul language?” Seokjin faked a shocked expression, “But, if you must know, it’s a family tradition of mine that the men pass down the portrait of the man who ended that horrific war that took place during Princess Sumin I’s time. My grandpa passed it down to my father who then passed it down to me. I hope to pass it down to my son someday.” He explained; hints of admiration laced his words.

What his ancestor had done would forever be something he would strive for. Seokjin II would forever strive to do something that would leave a huge impact on his family.

Sumin nodded slowly before taking one final look at the portrait.

“Excuse me. I apologize for wasting your time. It was a mistake to come here, and I will take my leave now.” She suddenly announced, hurrying out of the office.

Seokjin watched her fleeing body with curiosity. He became incredibly confused as to why the stubborn princess suddenly ran away after he explained how he got the painting.

“What a strange woman…” He thought with an amused yet faint smile.

Minutes later, he snapped back to reality and walked back to his desk. As he picked up the documents, he carelessly tossed onto his desk, and tried to focus on preparing for his meeting. The meeting that he had been over a few hours late. Thankfully, his meetings would never officially commence until he instructed his receptionist an official notice.

His eyes scanned the same line over and over. Why was his mind in jumbles still?

More importantly…

Why did his heart suddenly feel off? Like it felt empty the moment Sumin rushed out. It was if his mind was longing for her presence again.

Seokjin shook that thought away instantly and went back to work.

Yet the image of her beautiful face would forever be etched in his mind.

“What an interesting day, Kim Seokjin…what an interesting day…”

A/N: I swear. . . I would slap Seokjin and drop him after the idiotic stunts he has pulled with Sumin. Though... I think they are making some progress! Also, do you love the little Fight for Me related flashback? I’m going to be doing those types of flashbacks here and there in this series! Think of them as never before seen scenes! They’ll give you a better historic insight on Seokjin’s and Sumin’s Fight for Me counterparts! What do you guys think? Let me know!

Don’t forget to leave a like/reblog/comment/ask in my inbox! I love hearing your thoughts! :)

- Kim

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