#or fall out and kill each other in the process

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Everything Falls Into Place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff, worrying about not being able to adopt a child, anxiety

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: You and Steve start the process of adopting a child. There are a lot of steps that you have to go through, including a background check. You're worried about your past as Vixen is finally going to bite you in the ass. This is it. This is the other shoe you've been waiting for to drop.

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: social worker au (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

“What is taking her so long?” you sigh impatiently.

“She’s only been gone five minutes. Calm down,” Steve chuckles from beside you. Steve looks over at you to see you bouncing your leg from how nervous you are. You’re wringing your fingers together to keep yourself from biting your nails. “Y/N, you’re acting like a criminal who just got caught. Take a deep breath.”

“Steve, this woman is the decider on whether or not we have a child. Forgive me if I’m a little anxious.”

Your social worker, Amy, takes another ten minutes before she’s back in the office, and you let out a relieved sigh that she hasn’t kicked you out… yet.

“I am so sorry. We’re extremely backed up,” she says and takes a seat across from you.

“It’s no problem,” Steve smiles politely.

“So, you’re looking to adopt a child? It’s a big responsibility.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve actually been wanting this for a while now.”

“Why now? Why not then?”

You and Steve look at each other in thought. Maybe it’s because you two were out fighting in wars you had no business being in. Maybe it’s because you finally came face to face with Zemo again after so many years of being away from him, and you almost killed him. Maybe it’s because even though you think you’re ready to be parents… you’re actually not.

“We felt like the timing wasn’t right,” Steve finally answers and peels his eyes away from you.

“Have you always wanted to have children?”

“Yes, I have,” Steve answers honestly. “For as long as I could remember.”

“And you?” Amy asks.

“In the beginning, yes. I mean, when I was a lot younger. Some shit happened to me and I didn’t allow myself to feel that way until recently. Maybe in the last couple of years? I can’t have children biologically, but I do want one.”

“I never know how to ask this question despite how many years I’ve been doing this, but what kind of parents would you two be?”

“I can’t say for sure. How can anyone know for sure? We’ve never taken care of a child before. There will be obstacles that we might not know how to get over but I can tell you one thing. We will do our very best to make sure this child is loved, safe, and raised to be the best person they can be.”

“That’s a good answer,” Amy smiles and writes in her notebook. Steve rubs his thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly. “This is going to be a long process but I have confidence that it will go by quicker than you think.” She hands over a piece of paper to Steve. “Here is a list of everything I will be needing by the end of this week. Legal papers. You know how it goes. Next will be an extensive background screening for everyone living in the adoptive household. After that will be the in-home interview and inspection of the home.”

You don’t hear anything past background screening. What if they find out about Vixen? They won’t want to give you a child when they figure out how many people you’ve killed. What if they come for the home inspection and find your room of weapons? You’re not getting a kid.

“Okay,” you squeak out.

Steve notices your panic but decides not to say anything about it until you two leave the office building.

“What’s going on?”

“What if they find out about Vixen? The Winter Soldier? My time in Hydra?”

“They won’t--”

“What if they do?” you cut him off. “What if they don’t see me fit to be a mother? What about the guns and shit we have at the house? They’re not going to allow us to be parents with all that there.”

“Baby, you need to calm down. We’re going to do fine.”

His words go in through one ear and out the other. You hear him talk but you’re not listening to a word he’s saying. When you get home, you immediately head to the room with all your weapons and begin taking them off the wall. If you’re going to make this house suitable for a child, you have to make sure it’s safe for one.

“Y/N, it’s going to be fine.”

“No, it’s not. We live in a state where it’s illegal to carry outside your home. We aren’t even allowed to have this many weapons in the house.”

Steve knows you have to do this in order to make yourself feel better. He leaves you to box the weapons while he gets his phone out of his pocket. He calls Bucky, Sam, and Nat to come over because he thinks having them here is going to help you. He has always been the more level-headed one in the relationship which is why he’s being so calm about this. He has faith that everything is going to work out just fine.

“How long has she been like this?” Nat asks when she gets there.

“Since we left the social worker.” They know you and Steve have wanted a child for a while now. “Nothing I say matters.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha says and walks into the room. “You doing okay?”

“No, I’m not. I have to get these weapons out of here. Can you keep them for a while?”

“Sure. You’re going to do just fine. If anyone deserves a kid, it’s you two.”

“No, it’s not okay. Amy is going to come in here and see all these weapons and she is not going to give us a child. This isn’t safe for one. Or she will know I’m Vixen and think wow, a mass murderer assassin doesn’t deserve a kid. Or she’ll know about Bucky, Thanos, and everything else we have done in our lives.”

“Would it help if we helped you?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Steve help clear out the room until it’s bare. This is the room you’re going to use for the nursery. You don’t have any supplies since you’re not sure when you’re going to be getting a kid, so you’ll keep it bare for now. Bucky and Nat take the weapons to hold onto until this whole thing blows over. Your house has a basement that you can put them into only until after the inspections are done.

On the day of the interview and home inspection, you have cookies baking in the oven to give the home a sweet smell. You have been cleaning all day to ease your worries. Steve is nervous as hell but less than you are.

“I think this is the tenth time you fluffed that pillow.”

“It has to be perfect.”

“It is. You are. It’s going to be fine.”

“I know. It’s going to be great,” you smile. Amy shows up on the dot, and you let her in eagerly. “Welcome to our home. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you. Wow, smells good in here.”

“I have cookies that just left the oven. Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. I have two more visits to do. Not to sound rude but I’d like to get started right away.”

“Of course.”

You two lead her to the living room and sit across from her. Steve reaches for your hand and pulls it into his lap.

“To start with, why don’t you two tell me what you two do for a living?”

“We are employed with Stark Industries,” Steve says. Happy sends money to every Avenger on behalf of Tony. You don’t need a job when your job is saving people who need it. Does she not know you two are Avengers? “We make about two hundred thousand each every year.”

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“We love it. I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

“What are some of your hobbies?” Amy asks you.

“I love to sew. I love making my own clothes. I actually made my own wedding dress. It brings me peace whenever it’s just me, a needle, and some fabric.”

“And you?” Amy asks Steve while writing in her notebook.

“I like to draw, sometimes. I’ve been practicing more these days. I like to fish. We have a cabin up north that we like to go to when the weather is nice.”

“Tell me about your marriage, and how your relationship is with your significant other.”

You look at Steve and smile lovingly at him.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this man. He has saved me in ways you can’t possibly imagine. He’s my best friend. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but there is nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

“She said it right,” Steve chuckles. “I love her with all of my being. Our marriage has been nothing but great for these past few years. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy smiles and writes. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

“Both our parents are dead. We don’t have any living relatives,” you answer. 

“To get with the technical questions, why do you want to adopt?”

“I’ve mentioned this before but I’m sterile. I can’t have children on my own. I know Steve wants a family. This is the only way I know how to give it to him. We don’t want to do fostering or a surrogate. We feel like it’s more our style to adopt.”

“What she said,” Steve chuckles.

“If granted the opportunity to adopt, what are your hopes for your child?”

“That they’re a good person,” Steve answers. “That they’ll see someone who needs help and will want to do that for them. Who will love unconditionally.”

“Alright,” Amy writes. “This is everybody’s least favorite section. I’ve done your background checks.” Your heart drops. This is it. This is where she tells you that you can’t adopt. “Now my main concern is your work with Hydra. You are the Vixen.”

“Were,” you correct. “I’m not that person anymore. Yes, I have done a lot of bad things in my life. Things you can’t possibly imagine. That isn’t who I am now. I have healed from that part of me. I got help. I made amends. I got Hydra out of my head. I don’t associate myself with those people anymore.”

“What about Bucky?”

“Bucky is healed, as well,” Steve takes over. “He went to Wakanda and underwent the same thing she did. They’re both trying to move on from their past.”

“That’s all it is, Amy. It’s my past. It’s not my present and it sure as hell isn’t going to be my future.”

Amy goes through more routine questions before she gets ready for the house inspection. You tell her the plans you have for the empty room which will be the nursery. She doesn't say much but she does write a lot of stuff down.

“Thank you for coming,” you say when she is done.

“I’ll be touch.”

As soon as the front door is closed, your smile is lost.

“God, we’re not going to get a kid. Did you see the look on her face when she mentioned Vixen? She knows I’ve killed before. What person would want me to be a mother?”

Steve pulls you close and lets you vent. “We won’t know more for a while. Let’s just try and keep a calm head. Even if she says no, we can try other avenues. We will be parents. You’d be a loving mother.”

And wait you did. For two long weeks. You thought that was their way of telling you that you weren't going to have a kid. Until your phone rang and changed your entire life.

“Hello?” you answer frantically.

“Hi, Y/N? I have some news regarding your adoption application.” You and Steve wait with held breaths. “I am very happy to say you’ve been approved. I can’t wait to work with you.”

“We can get a kid?” you ask tearfully.

“That’s the first part of the process. We have sent in your application to mothers who are looking to put their children up for adoption. If and when they pick you, I will call with the next steps.”

“Thank you so much.” You cry when she hangs up. “We’re getting a kid.”

Steve pulls you in and kisses the top of your head emotionally. You have to wait for a birth mother to pick you so until then, you just have to wait. Most couples wait months or even years to get called, but you get a call from Amy only a couple of days later with a date set to meet a birth mother who chose your application among a few others. You’re nervous as hell because what if she doesn’t pick you? What if she hates you as soon as she meets you?

You get to the office where the meetings are held and wait for Amy and the birth mother to come. Her name is Jessica and she is too young to be having a kid. She is only twenty-three and she doesn't want kids at this age. Maybe when she is older but definitely not now.

Jessica walks in and seems to be about six months pregnant. She just came back from meeting a potential couple, so you straighten up and smooth down your skirt to make yourself look more presentable.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you two. My name is Jessica.”

“Y/N and this is my husband, Steve. Thank you for seeing us.”

“Yeah, I was intrigued when I read about your hobbies and your work with Stark Industries. Did you know Tony?”

“Uh, yeah.” You look at Steve and have a silent conversation through your eyes. If she is going to pick you, she should know exactly who you are. “I hope this doesn’t affect us negatively but he’s Captain America and I’m… Vixen.”

It takes Jessica all of five seconds before she starts crying. This is it. This is where she runs for the hills and gets you blacklisted from ever adopting a child.

“Captain America saved my life,” she sniffles. “I was visiting a friend in Sokovia when Ultron happened. You saved me.” She turns to Amy and wipes her eyes. “I don’t want to see anyone else.” She looks at you with a teary smile. “I can’t think of anyone better to care for my child than you two.”

“I’ll get the paperwork started,” Amy smiles and leaves the room.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You’re getting a kid. You’re getting a kid. You’re finally able to start your own family.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fan fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[judasisgayriot]

#fobedit #fall out boy #peterick #pete wentz #patrick stump #fob #zane lowe interview #anni edits #they're so funny to watch they're ready to just jump in and finish each other's sentences literally all the time #they truly talk as one person lol #also i love hearing so much about their process it's so chaotic #anyway this was the funniest moment in the whole thing for me. #i will KILL YOU!!!

[longclawshilt]

It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.

“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”

[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.

The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.

Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:

So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.

We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that

[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam

The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #azor ahai #the last hero #stannis baratheon #jon snow #the night's watch #didn’t put in the post but if Jon’s ADWD dream turns out to be true and he does gain his own flaming sword i tend to think he’ll get it #by giving up himself or part of himself in the process #jon is perhaps the most self sacrificial character in this series #which is why theories that dany will be his nissa nissa miss the mark almost entirely #if jon is to be a hero he will do it by sacrificing himself not someone else #he already demonstrated this in agot when he refused a direwolf and again in adwd when he refused winterfell #stannis is meant to be his foil so we could see them being weighed against each other #not to mention that jon’s adwd dream is very much a last hero retelling with references to his companions falling #and him outlasting them though there’s a really interesting reference to him killing robb and ygritte #but I think it’s more to do with killing his own desires to remain at the wall - in addition to his feelings of guilt and abandonment

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

#one piece #opla #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #slightly suggestive bc of the comment sanji makes at the end haha #sorry for the delay in requests i was in an accident yesterday and life things are happening so !! #i am posting this which has been in my drafts for a little bit

[vandnana]

Your Protector (i)

pairing: neteyam x female omaticaya reader (best friends to lovers)

summary: You and Neteyam grew up together, always knowing the feelings you had for each other, but too shy to vocalize it. But, when you leave with the Sullys to seek refuge with the metkayina people, Neteyam can’t help but finally tell you...after seeing you with Aonung

genre: fluff, *smut [at the end]

warnings: kissing, sensual scenes, jealousy

*characters are aged up*

word count: 6000+

— kinda slow burn, but definitely a lot of tension, follows the general story line with many moments between you and him 

[part 2 is here!] [part 3 (finale)]

Neteyam. He always liked to call himself your protector and you hated it. You always told him you could protect yourself. It was one of those things that he admired about you. You could do just about anything. You were practically perfect to him. Nothing could ever change his mind about that. You were his best friend, but the pressure he felt everywhere else always stopped him from ever telling you how much he really loved you, how he sees you and no one else.

You and Neteyam were inseparable since the day you met and you thought that it would always be that way. He was the only person that made you feel courageous and shy at the same time, but you did a pretty good job hiding how you felt about him.

Until he told you that he would have to leave the forest.

“How can I stay here knowing that you are out there?” You yelled, tears falling from your eyes.

He stepped forward, yelling back at you, “Y/n, this is for the people, to protect you all. I-“ Neteyam stopped himself when you averted your eyes from him, not wanting to listen.

He took hold of your arms, but you pushed him away. “Do not touch me.”

Still, he inched closer to you, but you backed away, your tears pouring over your face, angry cries escaping from your mouth.

Seeing you cry hurt him, but Neteyam did his best to sound strong, even though the thought of leaving you broke his heart too.

“I cannot let you come with us, y/n! We are being hunted. You must stay here. It is the only way I will know you are protected. It is the only way I will know you are safe.”

You shook your head, your heart breaking as he took his steps toward you. You let yourself stand still as he approached, your hands hitting at his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

You looked up at him, unblinking, your tone revealing your pained frustration, “Why am I the only one who should be protected? Did you ever think that perhaps I would want to protect you? I want to protect you too Neteyam. You are stupid for thinking I could ever be without you. Stupid.”

You felt out of breath after all that lay in your mind spilt out into the thick air between you. There it was. That courage you always had when you were with him, but as he stood, speechless, only looking at you, you became shy. Just like you always did.

His firm expression softened as he processed your words, his cheeks reddening, his heart racing in response to being so close to you, your foreheads almost touching, and butterflies finding a home in his stomach, whirling around as he looked at you. Butterflies had also found you, flying around as his eyes were on you, and you could not look away for that moment. Your heart matched his, rapidly pacing in your chest, the only thing separating the two of you were your hands still at his chest. You could pretend the butterflies weren’t there and you could pretend that your heart raced because you were angry. Yet, you could not hide the newfound blush that was forming on your cheeks, and once you felt the heat settling on your face, you pushed away from him, your eyes downcast.

“I am going. You cannot convince me otherwise.” You said before quickly leaving the tent, walking off to find Jake and Neytiri.

“Are you sure you want to? You can never come back here.” Jake’s expression was serious, his voice stern.

“What have you always said? Sullys stick together. The sky people killed my family. You are all I have left.” The memory was painful, but it was the truth, and Jake knew it.

Looking at Neytiri, she gave a doleful look, giving him a small nod, then turning to you, “You will come with us.”

—

When you and the Sullys touched down onto the Awa’atlu Village, the metkayina people surrounded you, tilting their heads at your odd appearance. They had clearly already made up their minds about you all. You were different. Foreign.

Two boys about your age approached you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, the taller one taking hold of Lo’ak’s tail for a moment and laughing, “Is this supposed to be a tail?”

You eyed them darkly, as they looked at you, Neteyam inching closer to you as they walked by.

“Aonung, Rotxo stop it!” A gentle voice scolded. Looking over, it was a girl, their sister, you assumed.

When the chief, Tonowari, and his mate, Ronal came, the tension in the air was thick as Jake maintained his calm, pleading with the couple to give sanctuary to his family. Ronal’s hesitation worried you for a moment, but hearing Jake’s plea, they agreed to grant you refuge in their home and teach you the their ways.

“My children will teach your children how to live like us.” Tonowari proclaimed, much to Aonung’s dismay.

But, Tsireya, the chief’s daughter, smiled, motioning for all of you to follow, “Come, I will show you where you will live.”

Everyone followed, Jake taking the lead. You observed around you, in awe at how different everything was. People were casting nets out into the sea to fish, children were playing in the water beneath the walkways, and the weapons you could see were spears, not the bow and arrows you were used to, and all around, there were animals swimming peacefully.

After settling down in your hut, Tsireya guided you all toward the edge of one of the docks, starting your first lesson in the water. Her and her brothers dove into the water, Lo’ak and Neteyam following after them, then you, Kiri, and Tuk last.

While the others seemed to struggle more, you and Kiri were able to hold your own in the water almost instantly. The others swam after Tsireya and her siblings, but you stayed with Kiri, mesmerized by the creatures in the ocean. While Kiri did her usual thing, admiring the animals and plants, you simply loved how it felt to be submerged in the water, staring up at the surface, the sun creating glimmers in your surroundings.

It didn’t take long for everyone to realize the two of you had strayed off, but Tsireya was able to find the two of you quickly, and when you noticed her and the others coming, you nudged Kiri, swimming up to the surface with her.

Breaking the water, Neteyam swam to you, taking hold of your arms, his face etched with worry. “Do not scare me like that. You could have been hurt.”

“I am fine. I am not a baby.” You pushed him away lightly, your eyes bilious for a moment before softening as he continued to survey your face, making sure your weren’t hurt anywhere, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

You and him still had not discussed what happened at the tent, so you both pretended like everything was fine, but the tension between the both of you was painfully obvious to everyone else. Lo’ak and Kiri glanced at one another, giving each other a knowing look.

Tsireya continued to teach you all, from breathwork to their sign language. Once the sun began to set, you went your separate ways. Heading back to the tent, Jake and Neytiri were on the floor, urging you all to sit and eat.

The day felt long, but you were determined to adapt, ready for whatever the next day had in store for you.

—

Everything was slowly becoming second nature to you as days passed. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with the others in the village, finding your way in the water, and connecting with the animals around you. Even breathing the metkayina way had become easier, but Neteyam still struggled slightly, and it was you who would help him practice.

You and Neteyam were in what you guys decided would be your spot on the island. You found it while the two of you were exploring the reef, you diving just a little too far down and Neteyam, worried beyond belief, catching up to you. There was a cave, hidden behind the giant anemones and coral, and somehow, entering it, you found that the cave itself was not submerged in water, preserving the air for you to breathe in. You and him were sitting across from each other, the pool of water that would lead you back out into the reef beside you, rippling slightly at the echoing in your voices.

“No, no you’re doing it wrong. You keep breathing from your chest. You have to slow your heart rate down and breathe from below.” You instructed, demonstrating it yourself.

“I know! I know. I’m trying. Why are you so bossy?” Neteyam replied, knowing the comment would irritate you.

“Maybe I would not be so bossy if you could do it right!” You let out in annoyance. Neteyam only laughed, amused at how easily he could get under your skin.

“You laugh now, but when you are drowning I won’t save you.” You punched him in the chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. He had one of those laughs that made you want to laugh too.

Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, “Really? You would let your protector drown? I don’t think so.”

Annoyed, you pushed him again, “Or maybe I should just kill you now.”

He raised his eyebrows cockily, and again, you brought your hands up to hit him, but he dodged, grabbing your arms instead. Using all your body weight, you drove him back, sending him downward on the ground with you on top of him. The action caught him off guard and he let go of your arms and taking the chance, you pinned him down.

“It is just too easy.” You let out, a satisfied grin on your face. “Fine, fine you win.” Neteyam muttered. He was about to sit up, but you moved ever so slightly on top of him, making his breath hitch. He looked away from you, feeling his whole body heat up.

You mistook his actions, laughing maniacally, “Don’t tell me you are out of breath from just that?” You teased, putting your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beat rapidly beating against your ear.

“And your heart is beating so fast too.” You continued, bringing your head back up to look at him, but as you did, you realized your closeness, bringing a scarlet hue to your cheeks. You hadn’t been this close since the day at the tent.

Your gaze only made things worse for Neteyam, his tail raising underneath him at the movement, making him sit up quickly, taming it down before it brushed against you.

His face was red now, and with a frustrated sigh, he finally looked at you, “Of course my heart is beating fast. I’m with you.”

When the words spilled out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. This was not how he wanted to tell you how he felt. His words came out too messily and he was ashamed.

You blinked at him, that shyness revealing itself again, his words stirring butterflies in your stomach.

“What do you mean?” You whispered softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

You spoke again, leaning forward and placing your hand on his chest, “Neteyam, tell me.”

Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound confident, “We should get going. I should go check on the others, make sure they are not causing trouble.”

You knew that was a lie.

You got up and he followed suit, still avoiding your eyes, “Neteyam—“But, he didn’t speak another word, only managing a weak smile at you, pretending he wasn’t bothered.

When you got back to the village, Neteyam said goodbye to you, hastily walking away. You followed him though, practically running through village. You were so focused on catching him you didn’t notice Kiri calling your name.

Grabbing your arm, she finally caught your attention, sensing the panic in your body language. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked, concern painted in her eyes.

“It’s Neteyam. He’s acting weird and I don’t know why. He just… ran away from me.” You explained, putting your hand on your head as you tried to piece together what happened.

Kiri rubbed your back, “I’m sure everything’s fine. You know Neteyam. Sooner or later he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. Especially if it’s you. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You nodded at her words, taking a deep breath. “Why don’t we go into the water before dinner. It will be a good distraction.You smiled, nodding as she took your hand and led you to shore.

You planned on diving into the water but Kiri noticed something in the sand and as if she was entranced, she laid down, “Come, (y/n) look!”

Submerging her head in the water, she fixed her eyes on one spot and taking a breath, you did too, lying on your stomach across from her.You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at, but you stayed with Kiri, observing what was in front of you intently. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the sound of voices made you lift your head out of the water.

It was Aonung and three other boys. You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”

Kiri finally lifted her head, confused as to what was going on.

Aonung kept a vile smirk on his face, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you. “Nothing, we just wanted to see what the two freaks were doing.”

You grabbed Kiri’s hand and began walking to the shore, turning your head toward the boys, “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” You spat back, Kiri laughing at your response.

The comment clearly angered them all as they stomped behind you, Aonung gabbing Kiri’s arm as a retaliation.

“Hey, get your hands off her!” You yelled, but he only laughed, his eyebrows raised slyly.

From the way you were balling up your fists, Kiri could tell you were beyond pissed now, taking hold of your arm to pull you away, “Come on y/n let’s go.”

You could have listened, but instead you threw a punch that caught Aonung off guard. Aonung and the rest of his boys stepped forward, but Lo’ak and Neteyam appeared to finish the fight, Lo’ak throwing another punch and Neteyam jumping in to help. Eventually, one of the men of the village noticed, breaking up the fight and sending you back to Jake.

As the three of you approached the hut, Jake turned to you, his face disappointed.

Neteyam watched his father, stepping forward, “This is my fault sir.”

“No it’s not. You gotta stop taking the blame for this knucklehead,” pointing at Lo’ak who looked away. “Go apologize. I don’t care how you do it.”

“But dad!—“ Lo’ak protested, but you stepped forward.

“Do not blame your sons. This is my fault, Jake. Aonung called Kiri a freak so I punched him first. It is me who should apologize.” You admitted, looking down at your feet.

“I expect this from these two, but not you y/n. You should know better. You both go apologize.” Jake scolded, his tone clearly frustrated.

You and Lo’ak nodded your heads before walking out of the hut.Lo’ak groaned, “Ugh. I can’t believe we have to say sorry to him.”

You slung your arm over his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look, which seemed to make him relax.

Appearing next to you, Neteyam slung his arm around your other shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”

You leaned the boys’ heads toward yours, hugging them both before grabbing their ears and pinching.

“Ow! Ow! Y/n that hurts!” Neteyam whined, his brother echoing the same cry.

“You guys are such a pain in my ass.” You lamented, before finally letting go.

“You’re the one who punched him first!” Lo’ak complained.

“Yes, but who came in and kept punching?” You retorted, the two of them avoiding your gaze.

You chuckled, “Thank you for doing that. It was stupid, but… you guys looked cool.”

Neteyam scoffed cockily, “Of course we did.” You glanced over at Neteyam, his mouth formed in a satisfied grin.

“Well, come on,” You motioned over to Lo’ak, “let’s go apologize.” You huffed.

“Y/n, wait” Neteyam called, grabbing your hand, you turned, your eyebrows raised expectantly.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, “When you come back, I have to tell you something.”

You nodded, “Wait for me at our spot, okay?”

Letting go of your hand reluctantly, he agreed, waving to you as you both walked away.

“I’m sorry I hit you. So many times.” Lo’ak apologized, and you reluctantly said sorry too, trying not to look indifferent. The boys looked at one another before accepting his apology.

You motioned for Lo’ak to follow you, but Aonung did something you did not expect.

“So what do you say? We are going hunting. Outside the reef. It is where the men hunt. Are you coming?” Aonung coaxed, glancing over at the other boys mischievously.

“No way. I’m not allowed.” Lo’ak said, starting to guide his ilu toward you.

Calling out, Aonung struck a nerve in Lo’ak, “I must be talking to the wrong brother then.”

Without any hestiation, Lo’ak turned around, “Let’s do it.”

You grabbed him, sensing something wrong, you gave Lo’ak a warning look, “Lo’ak, let’s go.”

He pushed you away, swimming after Aonung and the boys. Groaning, you looked back at the village before diving to follow them.

When you had reached Three Brothers Rocks, you dove after the boys, watching as Aonung began to swim up to the surface.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, your expression dark. Saying nothing, they only laughed, taking off on their ilus, leaving you and Lo’ak to the boundless ocean.

Not long after, Lo’ak surfaced, confused to find only you in the water, “Where are they?”

“Gone.” You flared, trying to calm yourself down as anger set its threshold in you.

Hopping on your ilus, you began to swim back, but a force from underneath the water sent you and Lo’ak flying, off of your ilu and back into the depths. As the water settled around you, you could finally see what had sent you back, a creature, intent on killing you both. You and Lo’ak glanced at one another quickly before swimming toward the coral, taking refuge in its labyrinth. The creature charged, biting the coral to get to you, but you continued to move inward. When it reached a point that it could not break, the creature retreated briefly, giving you a moment to calm yourself to control your breath.

You looked at Lo’ak, but you could tell he was panicking and you grabbed hold of him gently to reassure him. It seemed to work, but you knew he had reached his threshold of breath. You urged him upward quickly, hoping that the creature would not come back. Freeing yourself from the coral, you reached the open water, continuing to push him up. But, the creature had waited for you, turning its body to face the two of you. Grabbing your knife, you held it up, bringing Lo’ak behind you, but your chance to use it never came as another animal came, charging and killing the creature.

A tulkun.

Suddenly, you felt Lo’ak’s body go limp behind you, and you caught him, holding him as you approached the surface. The tulkun swam underneath you, taking you to the surface on its fin.

Once you broke the water, you breathed in deeply, turning Lo’ak over and pushing on his stomach, expelling the water trapped in his lungs.He coughed violently, before sitting up. Taking in his surroundings, unsure if he was alive or not.

“We survived.” You breathed, “Thanks to this tulkun.”

Its clicks sounded through the air in response and you smiled, looking into its eye, you signed, “Thank you for saving us.”

Lo’ak signed too, stroking above its eye.“Hey, look.”

You slid off its fin, observing the harpoon stuck in its flesh. Lo’ak gave an apologetic expression, his eyes sad from the sight. The two of you took it out, and the tulkun clicked radiantly as a thank you.

You were intrigued by the tulkun, watching as Lo’ak signed to the creature. You smiled as you watched him make a connection with it, but as you waded longer in the water, a stinging pain began to burn on your back.

“Agh—“ You hissed, pushing your hair away to reveal a large cut across your back. Seeing the cut, Lo’ak’s eyes widened, “We need to get you back to the village,” Turning, Lo’ak faced the tulkun, “Please take us to the village.”

As you swam, the salt water burned into your wounds, but you were able to bear it, gritting your teeth when the pain would intensify. The tulkun stopped at the edge of the village, and you both said goodbye to your new friend.

It was Neteyam who figured out you were both missing. When you didn’t show up at your guys’ spot, he knew there was something wrong. One of the warriors surveying the water caught sight of the two of you, taking you on the back of their boat to the edge of the docks where everyone was waiting.

When you saw Aonung, your expression was vicious, hissing at him as Lo’ak was readying himself to fight again, but Jake pushed the both of you back and Neytiri approached the two of you angrily. Your disdain was fixed on your face until you saw Neteyam, who could only apologize for not being there, his eyebrows furrowed in deep shame.

Jake and Neytiri scolded their son, apologizing for Lo’ak in front of Tonowari, but he refused. Tonowari knew Aonung knew better than to take Lo’ak outside the reef, and urged that it was his son to blame.

You felt relieved hearing this, but that feeling vanished once Lo’ak spoke.

“No sir. This is my fault. Aonung tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen.” Lo’ak lied.

“Lo’ak!” You piped in disbelief.

Jake sighed, taking Lo’ak by the arm and Neteyam turned his attention to you, helping you up onto the dock. You and him walked forward, but a sudden shot of agonizing pain surged through you, your vision fading to black as your mind began to shut off, “Neteyam.” Your voice breathy and weak as he looked over at you, catching your body as you fell, your mind finally sending you into darkness.

When you finally awoke, you were lying down in a hut you had never been in before, the sun shining on your face as you opened your eyes. The pain in your back was gone and you took a deep breath in.

“You’re awake! She’s awake! She’s awake!” You heard, looking over to find Tuk beside you.

Then suddenly, the Sully children gathered around you, relief washing over their faces as you sat up.

Neteyam who had been standing in front of the hut rushed to you, kneeling and taking your hand in his, “I am so happy you are alright,” He beamed, smiling at you.

You beamed back, quickly repositioning yourself to hug him, sending him backward onto the ground.

“Okay. Barf. I’m leaving.” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes at the two of you before walking out of the hut, Kiri and Tuk following after him.

You paid no mind to Lo’ak, your attention focused on Neteyam. You were not sure how long you had been unconscious, but it must have been agonizing for him, and the thought of him being in such pain caused you heartache. You leaned into his ear, your voice quiet as you spoke, “I am sorry for worrying you again.”

Your breath on his ear sent an instant flush to his body, concentrating at his cheeks, painting them a shade of pink. He gulped, trying to calm himself down. With you still on top of him, he sat himself up, never taking his eyes off you.

Sheepishly, he shook his head, “No, do not apologize. I am just…” he paused, taking a second to study your face admiringly, “I am just happy that you are alright.”

You laughed, standing up and holding your hand for him to take, “You already said that.”

He took your hand lifting himself up, sighing as he now stood, “Even at a time like this, you love to tease me.”

“Of course. I was knocked out for a while. I must make up for the lost time.” You joked, earning a laugh from him.

You guys stayed in a comfortable silence before you remembered the conversation you had before you left.

“Neteyam, before…you said you wanted to tell me something.”

“Right…” He began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Y/n, I wanted to tell you…”

You stepped forward, looking at him expectantly, “Yes?” He took your hand, gulping as he tried to piece the words together in his mind, “I wanted to tell you I—“

“Y/n.”

At the sound of your name, you pulled away from Neteyam, looking over at where the voice had come from.

Seeing who the voice belonged to you rolled your eyes. “What do you want Aonung?”

“I-I— can I talk to you for a second?” Neteyam looked your way, tilting his head as he wondered what you were going to do.

You let a breath in, “Fine, fine. Let’s talk.”

You walked toward the entrance of the hut, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder, “If you do not want to talk to him, you do not have to.”

“Who said I was going to talk to him? Maybe I’ll just hit him.” You grunted, giving him a reassuring look.

Neteyam knew what you meant, giving Aonung a warning look before exiting the hut.

When Aonung stepped inside, you could feel your anger returning to you as you looked at him, but you did you best to hold it in, “What do you want to say?”

“I am sorry. For treating you the way I did and for what happened to you.” His head was downcast, and seeing that annoyed you.

“If you want to apologize to someone properly, look them in the eye.” You hissed, placing your hand on his chin, you forced his gaze.

You expected him to be smirking like he usually did, but he wasn’t. His expression was, for the first time, apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I mean it. I-I really am.” It was all he could find himself to say, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You studied him for a moment, still in disbelief. “It is hard for me to accept your apology, but for the sake of peace, I will.”

Outside, Neteyam watched you and him from a distance, wondering what conversation the two of you could be having for you to hold his chin the way that you were. He could feel a sense of unease rise within him as he watched.

“What are you doing?”

Jumping, Neteyam turned around to find it was only his younger brother, his face curious.

Looking back at the hut, Neteyam grunted coolly, “Nothing.”

Following his gaze, Lo’ak smirked seeing you and Aonung in the hut, “Are you jealous big bro?”

“I am not. Me? Jealous? Of him? No way.” He replied defensively.

“Really?” Lo’ak glanced again behind his brother, turning him around, “So that doesn’t bother you at all?”

Aonung stepped closer to you, putting his hand out, “Friends?” Aonung said.

You grabbed hold of his arm, “Friends.”

Neteyam gulped, but did not want to give Lo’ak the satisfaction of being right, “They are probably just making up. That does not means anything.”

Lo’ak, amused, continued to joke, “You better hurry up bro. He’s already making moves on her.”

“Shut up.” Hitting his brother on the shoulder, scowling.

“What’s happening?”

It was Kiri with Tuk by her side. Lo’ak couldn’t resist making fun of his brother again.“

Neteyam’s jealous because Aonung is talking to y/n.”

“I am not!” Neteyam protested.

“Come on, just admit it.” Lo’ak nudged, sparking another flow of arguments between the boys.

“This is so stupid.” Kiri said, rolling her eyes.

Tuk, who only caught ins and outs of the conversation, only really cared when she heard your name and had also caught sight of you at the same time.

“Oh look it’s y/n! She’s about to get in the water. Come on, Kiri, let’s go to her!” Tuk begged, latching onto her sister’s arms, running to where you and Aonung were.

The boys had finally stopped arguing, Neteyam running with his sisters in an attempt to catch you, but you and Aonung were already in the water with your ilus, swimming fast and far from them. Aonung had challenged you to a race and you couldn’t help but accept.

Neteyam was about to jump in the water too, but Kiri stopped him, “My god, you really are jealous. You’re really going to follow her?”

Neteyam scoffed, “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous.”

But even he knew that what he was saying was a lie, his siblings groaning at his response.

They elected to wait for you on the shore, Tuk running quickly, urging her siblings to hurry up, Neteyam trudging behind everyone.

—

Aonung was fast, catching up to you as you distanced yourselves from the village, but you were determined to win and as Aonung approached, tailing your ilu, you had built up enough momentum to shoot forward toward victory.

Disconnecting from your ilu, you got out of the water, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. The minute the Sullys saw you emerge from the water, they made their way over, Tuk running to you excitedly.

“Guess who just beat Aonung in an ilu race?” You said to her playfully, picking her up and spinning her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out.

Aonung stepped forward, scowling, “That was just beginner’s luck.”

“Maybe, but you still lost. You should not have triggered my competitiveness.” You sneered, putting Tuk down.

Lo’ak and Kiri gathered around you, proudly whooping as you approached, but Neteyam stood behind you all, his arms crossed, eyeing Aonung as he stood beside you, too close for his liking.

“I want a rematch.” He challenged.

But you shook your head at him, “I must refuse. I would not want to embarrass you a second time.”

At closer glance, you suddenly looked different to Aonung. The sun was reflecting off of you, your wet skin glistening, your smile radiating as you continued to tease him in front of everyone. You looked pretty to him.

He wanted to keep being around you, staring as the newfound thought stained his cheeks with a faint blush, a sudden confidence taking over him, “If you won’t race with me again, then go for a dive with me instead.” Holding out his hand to you, he nudged for you to take it.

Seeing this, Neteyam uncrossed his arms, his eyes shot at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would refuse.

You looked at his hand, then at him, tilting your head.

“Right now?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly.

Not waiting for your answer, he took your hand anyway, leading you toward the ocean, “Come on.”

“Wait, Aonung—“ You began, but you were interrupted as Neteyam came up beside you, pulling you closer to him, breaking you away from Aonung’s grasp.

Calling his ilu, he sat you in front of him, telling you to hold your breath before taking off, leaving everyone on the shore stunned.

Aonung watched as the two of you disappeared and once everyone processed everything, Lo’ak patted Aonung’s shoulder. “Sorry man, you never stood a chance.”

—

You were facing Neteyam as he rode, watching him as he concentrated on where he was going, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly pursed. You looked at your surroundings, recognizing familiar structures of coral, and you smiled. You knew where he was taking you.

When you arrived at the entrance of your spot, Neteyam disconnected from his ilu, taking your hand and leading you into your cave. Breaking water, you both took a breath, his hand still in yours, you tightened your grip around it, causing him to look at you. You swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him with you, the two of you pulling yourselves out of the water.

You took his hands into yours, feeling the heat in you rising and the butterflies in your stomach coming back to you, fluttering quietly as you waited for him to say something.

But Neteyam stood, speechless, looking at you, admiring you. He owed you so much, but did not know what to say, too abashed by the feelings that arose every time the two of you were this close.

“Why did you do that?” You asked softly, caressing his hand. But you felt you knew the answer. You just hoped that what you felt was true.

“I didn’t like it.” He let out nervously, your confused expression begging for him to say more.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, how we was holding your hand. I-I hated it.” His head was downcast, ashamed at such childish feelings.

You took one of his hands up, placing it on your chest where your heart was. The movement made him look at you, his mouth open in surprise and the familiar heat in his face intensifying.

“Do you feel how my heart beats?” It was beating fast and was only growing in pace as Neteyam kept his soft gaze on you.

He nodded, looking at you with a dreamy smile, which you happily returned.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling as his heart beat matched yours, “My heart beats like this because of you.”

You let go of him, turning away. It was only when you did this that Neteyam realized just how your warmth affected him, how cold it would suddenly feel when you weren’t beside him.

”But, you must choose me, Neteyam. There are many women, all beautiful women for you to choose.”

Neteyam shook his head, approaching your turned back, his voice confident, “I do not want another woman. I only want you, y/n.”

Instantly, you faced him, smiling brightly, taking his hands into yours again, returning the warmth around him, around the both of you. It wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam wanted to let go of.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and instead taking hold of your waist, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you felt his tail brush against your leg, the movement slow, loving. You let out a slight moan, making Neteyam only deepen the kiss. The heat between the two of you burned with every movement, Neteyam lowering your bodies to the ground, taking hold of one of your legs as you wrapped it around him.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid together, but once you pulled away, the two you let silence fill the cave, your foreheads touching as you embraced. Neteyam grabbed his queue from behind him, and you leaned back, watching as he brought it in front of you.

“I see you.”

You brought your queue in front of you, looking at him before making the bond.

“I see you.”

When you felt the bond, your entire being connected with his, every sensation between the two of you charging as the amorous look in his eyes sent your heart into a frenzy. Neteyam, still with his forehead to yours, kissed your cheek before letting his lips explore every part of you. You closed your eyes with every touch, the core of you reaching a new state of bliss. Returning, Neteyam brought his lips to yours again and you savored the feeling, another wave of heat ready to burst in you. You reached down, and Neteyam pulled away, his look unsure, but you nodded reassuringly, bringing his head back down to connect your lips once more. There was nothing between you now, the little space that you once had now gone as Neteyam pushed into you, his movements passionate and loving. Your hand was at his back, the other clutching his hair as he kept going. The closeness between you and the love you could feel conjured up tears in your eyes, a moan escaping your mouth at every motion, your toes curling as the momentum continued, building and building until finally you both reached your bliss.

Pulling away breathlessly, Neteyam looked at you again, and not being able to contain how happy he was, smiled warmly at you before peppering your cheeks with kisses.

You giggled, lifting yourself up, him holding onto you. still, your tails curling around each other.

“So, this was how you felt… all this time?” You asked innocently, only wanting him to hear him say it one more time.

Taking your cheek in his hand, a mischievous smile took over his lips, “If it wasn’t clear…I can show you again.” His eyes suggestive as he raised his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes at him, lifting your arm to punch him lightly, but he grabbed it, pulling you in for another kiss. You relaxed under his grasp, but gently pulled away.

“You can’t just kiss me now every time you say something stupid.” You tried to sound firm, but your heart was turning to mush by the second.

He leaned in, kissing your cheek gently before resting his head on the crook of your neck.

“I am yours now, y/n. All my kisses belong to you now, so I have to deliver.”

“Hmm… I don’t know, I think I’m still gonna go for a dive with Aonung after this.” You teased, he lifted his head, looking at you in disbelief.

“Don’t even joke about that.” His voice serious, as you put a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m yours, okay? I’m yours.”

[part 2!]

#neteyam #avatar #avatar x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar way of water #nanasavatarfics

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve’s parents leaving him home alone more and more after the Fall of 1983. Half the time they don’t even tell him in advance, he just finds out from a note left on the kitchen counter and $10 to cover pizza.

Steve waking from a nightmare, friendless, alone (let’s pretend he and Nancy didn’t get back together), and hungry. The fridge is empty and Bradley’s Big Buy is closed for the night. He tries to go back to sleep but his stomach won’t relent so he reluctantly gets dressed and drives 15 minutes to the 24 hour McDonalds in the next town over.

The same McDonalds where Eddie works the drive thru headset at on the weekends. He’s not exactly fond of the job and finds dozens of ways to make it more entertaining — like coming up with terrible nicknames for the company.

Steve is taken aback the first time the static drive thru speaker welcomes him to “McCrap-lds.”

It makes him smile for the first time in weeks.

Neither Steve nor Eddie recognize each others voices as they banter back and forth. Steve ask for recommendations, Eddie makes fun of him but gives in.

When Steve pulls up to the window he expects to meet the funny drive thru employee but he’s greeted with a tired middle-aged women instead. Apparently Eddie lost window privileges after an incident. Steve doesn’t ask questions.

When he wakes up from another nightmare a week later, he returns to the McDonalds and engages Eddie in more easy banter before ordering his food.

It becomes a habit — one he keeps up for the entirety of the summer of 1984.

Steve and Eddie never meet face to face but that doesn’t stop them from venting, joking, and sharing their McDonalds recommendations through a shitty drive thru speaker.

Then on the first day of senior year, Steve is in line for the terrible cafeteria food (it makes McDonalds look like a Michelin Star meal) desperately craving chicken McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce when he hears a familiar voice. He turns quickly, eager to finally learn who the mystery guy responsible for making him laugh at 3am in a McDonalds parking lot is only to find Eddie “the Freak” Munson waltzing across lunch table going on and on about how conformity is killing kids.

Steve’s in shock. How could the sincere and hilarious guy he’s been shooting the shit with all summer be The Freak?! But then Eddie’s foot catches on a lunch tray and he topples ass first to the floor. When he pops up he takes a dramatic bow and makes a joke — one that sends Steve into uncontrollable laughter.

Yep, Eddie “the Freak” Munson is McDonalds guy.

And Steve knows exactly what he has to do.

He figures out where Eddie’s locker is and then excuses himself two minutes before the dismissal bell so he can get himself into position. When Eddie saunters over to his locker at the end of the day, Steve is waiting for him.

“Think it’s time I cash in on that free sundae you promised me a few weeks ago.”

Eddie stares at Steve dumbfounded for a moment, mind reeling as he process what Steve is getting at.

“You, Steve “the hair” Harrington are the McDonalds guy? My McDonalds guy?”

“Well I’m certainly the McDonalds guy,” Steve says taking a step closer. “Buy me that free sundae first and then we can discuss me being your McDonalds guy.”

#this is so dumb but the idea won’t leave me head #should I make this a proper fic? I may have started but I need to know if it’s worth it #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #steve harrington/eddie munson #Steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fluff #alternate first meeting #meet cute #Dani writes #stranger things #stranger things fic

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #hurt/comfort fic #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #theleggymeggy fics #fluffy #heavy angst #I write so much sadness I swear im okay #thank you for requesting!

[tqmies]

Love Guard | Lee Chan

Description. Lifeguard Lee Chan is a pain in your ass, and you swear he's only picked up this job to ogle at girls in bikinis. Little did you know, the only girl he wants to look at is you — not that you'd ever let him tell you that though — Especially now that you're convinced he's in love with your co-worker.

Pairing. Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader

Warnings. Curse words, (Pretend) Drowning, Karina attempts to meddle, Fluff, Chan's so whipped, Swimming, E2L (One sided)

Word count. 9.2k (Oops?)

Note: Summer has been over but I couldn't help myself! Welcome to my first Seventeen fic! Not 100% sure if I like this one but feedback is always appreciated!

"Two weeks." You repeat to yourself, attempting to calm yourself by digging your fingers into the squishy material of the rescue tube you have strapped on. Only two weeks left until the local waterpark is closed for the year — and until you have to look for another job — but the point remains a positive one.

In exactly two weeks from now, you will be freed from your own personal hell in human form, otherwise known as Lee Chan. Even when he's not stationed at the same ride as you, he's always finding his way over in your general proximity, just like he is now.

He's chatting up a few girls who look gorgeous in their tight fighting bikini sets, and you just about scoff at how obvious he is. You and Karina are set at the wave pool right now, and you feel bad for whatever station Chan is supposed to be manning. Does he ever do his job?

Karina quirks her head, her long ponytail falling to her side. "I heard he was supposed to be with the flow rider."

Ah yes the flow rider, the stationary surfing machine that tiny children and older adults alike swear they can do. You've only had to operate it once, and let's just say you complained so much you never had to do it again. Just this once, you can understand why he wandered over to the other side of the park.

"Vernon probably took over and kicked him out." You shrug, knowing how serious the older male takes his job.

"I hope so." Your friend giggles, patting your shoulder as she walks away. You notice her hand on the whistle, she must've spotted a few kids running again, nothing out of the ordinary.

A few feet away, Chan is just about whining into these poor girls ears. He smirks at them. “Is she looking this way?”

The girl on his left — whose name Chan hasn't caught — glances over her shoulder and then turns back. “She’s not, she’s watching the pool.”

One of the other girls snorts. “Looks like she’s doing her job.”

"That makes one of us." Chan slumps dramatically before an idea pops into his head. (The girls swear they could see a lightbulb above his head in that moment).

Chan swivels into the water after he stood to his feet, the others awaiting his revelation. "Okay, I'm going to need one of you to pretend you're drowning."

"Drowning?!" The blonde girl's jaw drops. Chan doesn't see why he has to explain it though. They would simply pretend they were drowning, he'd jump in all heroic like, and save them. And in the process, you'd notice and commend him for being so cool.

Chan was a genius, he nodded to himself.

So after explaining the plan to girl's that he had just met today, well about twenty minutes ago, he's ready to get this show on the road. He's lucky the girls felt bad for him after he gave the typical sob story on how his crush hated him. Otherwise, they probably wouldn't have agreed.

The blonde girl submerges herself into the water, on purpose, as Chan prepares to take action. But first, he had to take his shirt off. Oh don't act so shocked, he's literally trying to get your attention! He's not above showing a little skin!

You don't even notice though, too preoccupied with watching some children jump on each other. You approach them and politely tell them to not attempt to kill each other under the water. You didn't even think that needs to be said but, this job surprised you every day.

However, the minute you turn around, you notice some arm's flailing around in the water. It was the area where Chan was just standing, but he's nowhere to be found now. Shit! You were going to have to act, and fast!

So you dive into the water, peeling your eyes open in the chlorine to find the girl. You reach her in record time, using your rescue buoy to grab her and pull her out. You lay her on the concrete, shaking her shoulders and gaining no response.

"Someone get me an AED!" You shout, preparing to begin CPR. Karina rushes to your side, asking any bystanders if they knew what happened and trying to gain more information about the situation. Thank goodness for her.

A crowd begins to form around you as you recall the CPR process in your head, ready to begin when you're abruptly shoved out of the way.

"I got it!" Chan explains, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You're too stunned to reply so you just let him take the lead, watching his next moves in silence.

He barely starts to push on her chest when her eyes shoot open, and she begins coughing up imaginary water. You're a bit suspicious, but this was your first time dealing with an unconscious victim, guess you'd just been lucky so far.

She sits up as she starts talking, waving her hands around. "Don't call 9-1-1 or anything! I'm fine!"

Karina leans forward. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" The girl replies, before easily standing to her feet as she rushes out, her friends following behind her. They didn't even have their shoes on?

Chan watches them in defeat as you and Karina silently gape at each other. The girl had run away steadily, no signs of being disoriented for someone who had just been unconscious. It did all happen so fast though, maybe you weren't seeing things right.

Karina is the first to stand. "What just happened?"

You shake your head, your now wet hair dripping on you. "I don't even know."

Chan doesn't look as confused as you two though, but never mind that, you had a bone to pick with him first.

"And where the hell were you?"

Chan barely registers you speaking to him, as he's mentally recounting how his plan went awry. "I was getting my CPR keychain."

You want to bang your head against the ground. "You didn't have it on you?"

Hey, give him a break. He's human too! He forgets things sometimes, it can't be that bad! However, if he was going to convincingly look like he was saving the girl earlier, he had to have his keychain on him. Which is why he ran off looking for it...

"I left it in my locker." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"God, just put a shirt on Lee." You stand to your feet. "And please do us all a favor and stay in your station."

"So you acknowledge that you checked me out?"

You deadpan. "I acknowledge that you make my job harder because an old woman almost slipped on the shirt you threw off!"

Had he really thrown his shirt? He didn't even notice, your wording had to be a bit exaggerated.

You cross your arms as you head back to the other side of the pool, back into your comfy life guard chair. And preferably, as far away from Lee Chan as possible.

..

"Then he shows up like some fucking hero and interferes with me doing my job!" You state sarcastically, slipping your sweatshirt on as you stand by your locker. Screwing the cap back onto your water bottle, you sigh.

Minghao, your close friend who you never managed to get stationed with, just listens in mild amusement. "But he saved the girl, right?"

You shake your head as you gather your things. "I don't know if you could call it saving. It was weird, she just up and ran off."

Minghao giggles. "Are you sure she was drowning?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say no." You admit, the jingling of a lanyard behind you catching your attention.

"Okay, I'm heading out." Karina says as she holds her bag over her shoulders. Your brain is too busy trying to configure how she looks so cute after a full day at work. You were sure you looked as worn-out as you felt.

"MIngyu's still around here somewhere. And Seungkwan and Chan are still in the back, I saw them fighting with the pool nets." Karina continues, referring to the long wands used to skim the pools for bugs and dirt. Or worse, fecal matter.

Thankfully, that's usually not the case. Nevertheless, you're grateful that wasn't your job today. You did have to lock up though, meaning that you had to get the aforementioned boys up and out.

"I'll get Minghao to yell at them." You nod, and Minghao just laughs.

Back at the pool, Chan is currently shuffling his brain for another plan, one that won't fail this time. Honestly, it probably made you more angry at him than anything. "I have two weeks Kwan."

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. "Oh God."

"Two weeks to make her mine." Chan repeats, rubbing his eyes.

"You're delusional." His friend replies, picking up his own pool stick and heading to the main area. "Why don't you start with something simple, like driving her home first."

Chan perks up at that. "Wait, that's actually a pretty good idea!"

"Actually?" Seungkwan starts, but Chan is already racing past him, pool cleaning long forgotten. Though the older male still shouts after him. "I always have great ideas!"

Chan mentally prepares himself on the way there, stopping by one of the outside mirrors in the kids splash area to check his hair. Looking good, he thought.

"Hey," Chan speaks, approaching you and Minghao as he tries not to give the latter a death stare. He could never figure out what kind of relationship the two of you had, and that made him uneasy. Not that you owed him an explanation or anything, but it'd be nice to get some clarification.

All he knew was that you and Minghao applied for this job together and you'd been friends for a while. Chan also knew you spent your lunch breaks together at the snack bar, courtesy of his friend Mingyu's spying, and he knew he took you home everyday.

But those could all just be friendly gestures, right?

You ignore Chan's presence as you turn to close up your locker, not bothering to acknowledge him. Minghao does though, "You heading home?"

"Yeah, actually." Chan responds, eyes never leaving your figure. He calls out your name, to which you roll your eyes to. "What?"

He stands up straight, slightly puffing his chest out in an attempt to appeal more to you. Was it working? Probably...Not. "Can I drive you home?"

"Not a chance." You shoot down immediately, not a hint of hesitance in your voice. Oh, that was fast. But Chan knew this wasn't gonna be easy after all.

"I'll buy you food on the way." He offers, clinging to his last ounce of self respect before he gets on the floor to start begging. He was not above that when it came to you.

You cross your arms. "Are you insinuating that I can't buy my own food?"

Of course things were going this way, "That's not what I-"

You put a hand up to stop him, smirking. "Because you're right, this stupid job doesn't pay me nearly as much as I'd like."

Chan stays quiet, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, you continue for him, all in a condescending tone though. "Whatever Lee. Even though you're probably doing this just to feel better about yourself for being such an asshole all the time, I'll bite."

Minghao grimaces, had you always been this harsh? Well, he knows the younger male did you piss you off more than usual today. He knows in his rational brain that he probably shouldn't let this happen. But will he? Yeah.

Minghao gently grabs your arm. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

"Of course." You reply, and Chan watches you flash a smile reserved for your friends only. He knows that because never once had you directed that smile at him. This was soon to change, or so help him.

"You can go ahead, I'll get 'Kwan and lock up." Minghao nods and you thank him.

Chan's just about losing his mind though, Minghao was on a nickname basis with Seungkwan? What the hell? Did Seungkwan not know that Minghao was enemy number one ?! He had some words for him later.

Right now though, his main focus was you. Even in the horrible florescent lighting of the locker room, he thought you looked beautiful.

You, on the other hand, were getting the ick from seeing Kim Mingyu walk around with flip flops. That was going to be hard to move on from.

Just to be clear, you really weren't interested in relationships right now. And yes, you and Minghao were just friends, strictly platonic. However, with on slow days, you liked to occupy yourself with staring at Mingyu's prominent muscles. And honestly, who could blame you?

Chan redirects your attention to him. "So, where to?"

You roll your eyes. "You were the one who invited me out, and you don't know where we're going?"

He looks down. "McDonalds?"

So that's how you two end up in the drive-thru of the famous golden arches. Chan has a million thoughts running through his head, the main one being how he managed to get you in his car, willingly!

In another universe, Chan imagined that this would be your first date. He'd make you laugh, hold your hand, and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night.

"Should I get a Coke or a Sprite?" You speak to yourself, pulling Chan out of his thoughts.

He straightens his posture. "Oh you should-"

"I wasn't actually asking." You roll your eyes, already mentally having decided in your head.

Chan shuts his mouth.

"You know, I'm really interested in hearing why you invited me out of a sudden." You say, leaning your head against his car window.

Chan's scrambling for the words. "I just wanted to talk."

"About?"

Chan breathes in, here goes nothing. "Well, we only have a few weeks left working at the park, and I kind of.. like this girl."

You narrow your eyes, knowing where this was going. "Oh lord, did you really drag me all this way to try to get me to set you up with Karina?"

Chan's eyes widen. What?! How did you get to that conclusion. Chan barely knew the other girl, much less liked her. In all honesty, he barely even paid her any mind, always too preoccupied with staring at you by her side. He rushes to deny it. "No-"

"You don't have to lie." You speak, rolling your eyes. "You took me here on a bribe so I could put in a good word with you."

Chan's so confused right now.

"Sorry but I think Karina's worth more than whatever you're getting me on the dollar menu." You spout sarcastically. "And anyways, why would I help set her up with you?"

Now, Chan has to speak up, because really? Was he that bad that you couldn't even imagine setting him up with a friend ? He's mildly offended, even if he could care less about her. It's more so that he's utterly infatuated with you, and he can't believe you don't see him as possible boyfriend material. "Huh? What's wrong with me?"

You narrow your eyes. "Well, for starters you're broke, lazy, and irresponsible. Oh, and stupid, immature, full of yourself-"

You were really laying it on thick, and Chan doesn't think he can take anymore stabs at his character without possibly jumping out of his car window. He interrupts, "Anything else?"

"I wasn't even done yet." You stop counting on your fingers. "Point is, you're not good enough for Karina."

He doesn't even care about who you're talking about anymore, he throws his hands up. "You don't even know that, you've never seen me on a date." Because you've never given me a chance, but he only speaks that last part in his head.

"I've seen your everyday character, that says more than enough."

Chans on the verge of ramming the car in front of him in line. "So what kind of guy would be good enough?"

You shrug. "Probably someone like Joshua."

"The manager?" Chan draws back, because were you referring to Karina's taste or yours? He was so lost right now. "He's like way too old."

You click your tongue. "I said someone like him. He's smart, soft-spoke, responsible, and he knows how to deal with conflict."

Chan grips his steering wheel. Yes, Joshua had his life together, but that's because he was older! Was that really what you were into? Chan might as well throw in the towel now. "It sounds like you want someone like Joshua."

"Maybe, I don't know."" You cross your arms in thought. "Well, he's kind of boring, can't be much fun dating someone like that."

So there is a drawback to perfectly stunning men like Joshua, or was he just saying that to make himself feel better? He'd have to ask Seungkwan for advice tomorrow. "Well-"

"Whenever you're ready." A voice takes over through the intercom. Chan hadn't realized he had already pulled up this far.

He didn't even know what he wanted, in fact this whole conversation made his stomach turn. Was he even hungry anymore?

However, you knew exactly what you wanted. But Chan's silent by the intercom so you do the only feasible thing to do, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over him. Climbing past the center console, you throw your body halfway out of the window and start reciting your order.

Unbeknownst to you, the male in the car with you was losing his mind. Why were you so close to him? Why did you smell so good? Why was your body basically on top of his (You aren't touching at all)? And Why did this feel so intimate?

You turn to him, still in the same position. "What do you want?"

Chan's face is red, and he's trying his best to stay cool, avoiding eye contact. "A burger."

"Which one?"

Poor guy can't think straight. "The normal one?"

You sigh, turning back towards the speaker. "And a Big Mac."

"I think Chan likes you." You speak, seeking refuge from the scorching hot summer sun under the tiny roof peeking out from the food stand.

Karina sips on her slushie, that's halfway melted, and grimaces. "No way."

You offer a tight lipped smile before shooting her glare. "Don't give me that look! Who wouldn't like you?"

Karina laughs. "It's not that I don't think he'd like me, it's that he doesn't."

"And how are you so sure?" You ask, adjusting the straw on your own slushie.

"Um, okay one, he's never held a conversation with me for longer than two minutes." She starts, placing her cup on the counter. Trying her best to stop the syrup from getting her hands all sticky.

You digress though. "That's because you make him nervous!"

"Two, we barely know each other."

"You haven't given him a chance." You tease, unaware of prying ears listening to your conversation. Give you a break though, honestly, it was too hot for all of this.

"Where did you even get this idea from?" She inquires in disbelief.

"Last night when he took me to McDonalds."

Karina's jaw goes slack. "You voluntarily went somewhere with him outside of work?"

Guess you had forgotten to mention that, oops. "He bribed me with food."

She narrows her eyes, suspicious but moving on anyways. "And then he told you he liked me?"

"No," You answer truthfully. "But he didn't deny it."

Karina shakes her head. "I think you're just desperate for some cute lifeguard-love-story to shake things up around here, and it's not going to work on me."

You giggle. "Whatever you say."

"You could have your own story if you just asked out Minghao already." She suggests meekly, despite knowing your constant insistence that there was nothing going on between you two.

"That's gross, I think I just threw up in my mouth."

"Yeah, I know." She teases before lowering her voice so only you can hear, and her eyes dart over to Mingyu making a hot dog. "But you could finally strike something up with mister beef cake over here."

You roll your eyes. "He's too hot for me, half the park wants him."

"He gives you free food."

You hush your friend. "He gives everyone free food!"

"You win this battle." Karina says, trashing her finished cherry drink. "But the war is far from over."

"Get back to your post, Yoo." You sigh, cleaning up the mess your melting treats made with a few napkins and discarding them.

Mingyu comes back to the front where you are after noticing you were alone, "Going back?"

You groan. "Unfortunately my break is over."

He offers a small chuckle, and all you think about is how good he looks. Especially since he's donning a sleeveless red shirt, matching the parks general colors, and you can see his arms in their full glory. No wonder you'd heard girls in passing giggle about how they wanted to take a bite out of the food stand guy, you saw the appeal.

Why couldn't he be a lifeguard? Just saying, it would be nice to see him without a pesky shirt sometimes. Oh you were so embarrassing.

"Have you seen Hao? I wanted to talk to him about something?" The male inquires but you shake your head.

"He called in today," You stand. "Said he felt sick, or some other kind of lie."

"He's not sick?"

"Judging by his Instagram stories on a boat?" You quirk your head. "I'd say no."

MIngyu laughs at your humor, and you're flashing that pretty smile again, and Mingyu's feeding right into it. Are you two flirting?!

Chan hates it!

Not your smile, no he could never hate your smile. But he hates how he's never once gotten to see it aimed at him. Yet here you were, chatting it up with Mingyu? Did the nuggets he bought you last night mean nothing? He thought they were a great symbol of his undying love for you!

Vernon looks unimpressed. "Stare at him any longer and you might just burn a hole through him."

Chan narrows. "That's the plan"

Vernon's bored. "Okay, this is getting weird."

"I just don't get it, what does she even see in guys like Joshua? Or Mingyu?" Chan crosses his arms.

"Maybe because they do their job-" Vernon tries to get his station partners attention back.

But Chan's having none of it. "Yeah right, look at Mingyu! He's flirting on duty!"

"He just runs the food stand, in his defense. Half the time isn't he helping you spy on her and Minghao?"

"Well it seems like he's playing for the other team right now, standing there and talking to my girl!"

"Your girl." Vernon repeats, shaking his head in disbelief as he mocks the younger male. "You're ridiculous."

Chan stays rooted in his place. "I can't even believe-"

"Hey, Chan right?" A voice plucks him out of his plotting to kill Mingyu (Okay, maybe killing was extreme, but at the very least he was going to jump him. Eh, that might be a little too much as well, he was still technically Chan's friend. Maybe he could-)

Oh wait, someone was talking to him, and he should probably respond. "Yeah that's me."

"Oh, well I'm Karina." The girl introduces herself as Chan finally gets to take a look at her. He knew who she was, everyone did, but the two had rarely a few words to each other before now, if anything.

He adjusts his sunglasses, eyes barely moving from you and Mingyu. He had to make sure Mingyu didn't try anything. This was a matter of national security! "Nice to meet you, I guess"

"What's up Karina?" Vernon asks, trying to break up this weird tension as he saw how Chan effectively ignored you.

Karina places her hand on her hip. "I'll just be straight forward, someone told me that Chan had a little thing for me, but I know that's not the case, even though she's entirely convinced."

Chan's irritated. "What?"

"I'm not blind, Chan." Karina raises a brow. "I know you have a crush on her."

"Well yeah, could he be more obvious?" Vernon snidely remarks as Chan does his best to ignore his comment.

"So," Chan looks down, slightly dissapointed. "Did you come just to make fun of me?"

"No," She leans forward. "I've decided I'm gonna help you."

"Help?" Chan's taken back as he snaps his head up.

"Help?" Vernon parrots, though he sounds more confused.

She smiles. "Yup"

"Why?"

Karina stares at her perfectly manicured nails. "You're a decent guy. Good looking, nice enough, and I know you're trying your best."

Chan blinks, this was the complete opposite of what you had told him. Karina continues, "But mostly, it's because I can tell you really like her. And I think she deserves someone that'll treat her well for once."

"Well give it up," Chan sighs, wiping sweat from his brow. "Mingyu's about to propose to her anyways."

"Mingyu's not doing anything," Karina moves her hair. "He been standing there like a dweeb the whole time, completely oblivious to everyone around him."

"And she still likes him more than me."

Your friend glares at the male. "Well this isn't going to work if you're going to be so negative."

"Karina," He turns to her. "Honestly, what's the point? She wants nothing to do with me."

"Because she's blind, she can't see how much you like her."

"So, what should we do?" Vernon pipes in, surprisingly intently following the situation.

"We have to prove to her how much you like her!"

"And how can I do that?"

"Don't worry, I have that part covered."

...

"And then he threw up right next to the trashcan." Jeonghan — one of the new hires — finishes venting to you about one of the kids on the waterslide he was manning.

"Swear there should be some kind of law forbidding kids from eating four hotdogs and then getting on a ride that sends you spinning." You sympathize.

"Or people could just have more common sense." Jeonghan comments, before his eyes drift off somewhere else. "Is that Karina talking to Chan?"

Your eyes widen as you try to follow his line of sight. "What? Where?"

"Over there." Jeonghan points with his head, towards the bathrooms.

Sure enough, leaning on the bricks outside the bathrooms, was your friend talking to Lee Chan. Had he finally gained the courage to talk to her? And oh no, was she actually reciprocating?

"I didn't know they were friends." Jeonghan breaks the silence.

"They're not." You raise a brow. "I think he likes her."

Jeonghan looks at you like you've grown three heads. "You're joking right?"

You shrug, "Why would I be joking?"

"Everyone knows that he-" Your friend stops himself before waving you off. "Never mind, you wouldn't believe me anyways."

"Believe what?"

Jeonghan snickers. "Nothing."

You're eager to press on more about whatever he was talking about but the manager, Joshua, asks if you and Jeonghan can get showered already so you can all head out.

By the bathrooms, Chan's about to start throwing a fit. "She looked over here once!"

Karina pats his shoulder lightly. "We'll get her next time. For now, I'll just have to feed her a great narrative of you until she realizes she wants you for herself."

Chan looks down. "This is hopeless."

"Holy shit, where is Chan?" Minghao complains, but you show no sympathy as he was seemingly having the time of his life yesterday.

You shrug, adjusting the strap of the bathing suit you had just put on. "Don't know, don't care."

Your friend tsks. "At least we get out early today."

You shake your head. "Doesn't matter, Joshua's forcing us into that work bonding thing."

MInghao groans, resting his forehead against the steel locker. "I forgot about that, what's the point again? We've had plenty of time to bond already."

"It's mandatory if we want that last paycheck." You remind him and he sighs.

He grabs a bottle from his locker and uncaps it. "Can you put sunscreen on me?"

You nod, it was a normal occurrence, and usually no one batted an eye. Even as you rubbed it into his face, too close for it to be considered just friendly, you know it's all platonic.

Chan on the other hand, isn't so sure.

Him and Karina were walking up the gravel path and the scene hits him before he walks into the area. "H-He's rubbing sunscreen on her back!"

Karina tries to calm him. "They do that for each other all the time."

"Then why does it look so romantic!"

"You're overthinking!"

"Seungkwan rubs my sunscreen in! Why don't you do it for her?!"

"I always get here late!" She defends. "Anyways, this isn't about me, we need to get in there!"

You're instantly drawn to Karina and Chan loudly entering, and it seems the two have gotten close over the past few days.

"Hey guys," Minghao greets and they offer him a hello back before opening their lockers.

"Chan," Karina speaks louder than her normal volume as to draw your attention. "Could you help me put on sunscreen? Can't reach my back today."

Chan nods, grabbing the bottle from her hands and slowly helping her rub it in. He wants to make sure you looking too, and how he's one hundred percent sure he can do it better than Minghao can.

"Uh Rina," You speak before you all head out.

"Yes?" She responds, hoping for you to say something about Chan.

"You have a couple white streaks on your back." And you grimace at Chan's poor job of doing something as simple as rubbing sunscreen in. "Do you want me to-"

"No! No," Karina laughs at her outburst. "Um, I'm sure Chan can help me fix it."

You almost flinch.

"Right, Chan?" Your friend grits her teeth so the male could take the hint.

"Oh, right!" He catches on and then vigorously continues to rub the cream into her skin. He's a little too aggressive with it.

"Ow- um, okay!" She lets out. "I think I'm good now."

You stop, "Okay..."

Chan scurries off, and he realizes he actually needs to get his own swim trunks on, and for heavens sake, where is his first aid whistle?!

You two walk away, you picking at your nails as you dread the day ahead. Your friend needs to break the silence. "So, you're staying today?"

"I wish I had a choice." You grovel.

"I feel you."

You catch the time on one of the parks various clocks. "We open in five."

Your partner nods at the reminder, continuing to with you just out of the sight of the boys and any other listeners. "So, what do you think of Chan? Isn't he sweet?"

You're taken aback. "Is this you trying to get my approval?"

"No.."

"Because you could do way better."

She almost stops in her tracks. "What?! But Chan has lots of redeeming qualities."

You feel like this is a prank. "Like?"

"Well he's nice, a good listener, and-"

"Oh, you got it bad." You interrupt.

She's about to start swinging. "No, you know he's not my type."

You frown. "So you're leading him on?"

Karina deadpans. "We're just friends, but all I'm saying is, uh, he's not a bad guy!"

You almost stop walking. "Right..."

She speaks again, trying her best not to seem pushy. "You know, I think the two of you have a lot in common, you could be good friends."

Before you can even respond, someone is yelling your name across the park, and its too early in the morning for that.

Though your face softens when you realize its Mingyu beckoning you over. You tell Karina you'll meet her at your station and separate. She was acting kind of odd anyhow.

"Mingyu," You approach him, the shade now concealing your face as you take a seat on one of the chairs. You try to keep your eyes from wandering, mainly to his exposed arms. "What's up?"

He smiles' bashfully, leaning on the counter. "Well, I've been wanting to ask you this for some time,"

You can sense he's a little nervous, so you nod your head. "What is it?"

"Could I maybe..." He trails again, before closing his eyes in mental preparation. "Have Karina's number?"

You gape like a fish out of water, doing your best to conceal your light disappointment. "K-Karinas number?"

"Well yeah, I'm interested in her. Unless she's seeing someone." He stumbles on his words.

You tilt your head. "Not sure, maybe you should ask Chan."

"Chan?" Mingyu almost laughs. "He doesn't like her like that."

You grimace at that. Had Chan been telling everyone that he didn't like Karina, when clearly he had been acting the opposite? Sure, she didn't like him back but, for him to be saying things like that was a low blow. "Did he tell you that?"

"Huh, what?" Mingyu looks confused. "Well, not directly. Though, It wouldn't make sense because he already likes someone."

You wave him off. "Doesn't matter, either way, you should ask her yourself. I really can't give you her number on my behalf." You explain, feeling kind of bad, but keeping a peppy voice.

"You think she'd give it to me?"

You smile. "You'll never know if you don't try."

Watching, once again, a few feet await is Lee Chan. He's using all his self control not to rip the foam tube in his hands apart, but Vernon brings him back to earth, or more like back to helping him tie up the obstacle course in one of the pools.

Even as he's experiencing red-hot jealously from watching you interact with his friend, he can't help but admire how pretty you were. You somehow managed to make that stupid visor look cute. And trust me, Chan thought no one could make that hat look cute.

If Chan was anyone else, he probably would've given up on his painful crush by now, but Chan wasn't anyone. He's not sure where his liking for you started, maybe it was that first day you joined. Looking all pretty as you stood next to Minghao and introduced yourself. Chan had overheard from Joshua that you had impressive swim skills, and you had a crazy dedication for your job.

It was a few weeks before he even got to interact with you. You were pretty much attached at your friends hip, taking a minute to warm up to the others. You had gotten partnered with Karina for a ride once and she helped you get along with the rest of the staff pretty well.

That's not how you first knew of Chan though.

No, that was a while later. One hot day a few years ago, when Chan was still scrawny and more awkward with girls. He had finally had a chance to grab a slushie, opting for the purple mystery flavor that rested in the machines. (Chan thinks it was a result of a machine that hadn't been cleaned, so it really just tasted like a mixture of all the flavors.) Anyways, he happened to be in a hurry due to him chatting with Mingyu for well over his break.

Which meant he booked it to the other side of the park.

Which consequentially meant that he wasn't watching where he was going. This meant that his slushie met an unfortunate end on your lifeguard bathing suit. And all over the floor.

Now, you were testing patience at the time. This was a new job, plus it was an accident, you could forgive the guy. You also didn't mind that he was pretty cute.

That was until he ran.

Look, in Chan's defense, you made him so nervous. You were so much prettier up close! He stood there frozen for a few minutes, stuttering and thinking of ways to apologize. So he did the only viable thing to do, he ran to the bathrooms to fetch napkins!

Only, he didn't say a word so you thought he literally just ran off to avoid conflict - which wasn't even happening in the first place!

After that, you dubbed Lee Chan someone to avoid. He obviously left you in a mean spirited haste, a deep purple stain blotched all on the front of your uniform. You figured he had a good laugh about it too!

Chan regrets it everyday, why didn't he just act like a normal human?! Why did he have to make things harder for himself?!

By the time Chan had returned, you were long gone. You had ran to the bathroom on the verge of tears, basically abandoning your post and leaving Minghao to run after you.

So if anyone asked, you'd say that your distaste for Lee Chan was completely valid.

...

"Great work today team." Joshua addresses you all, clapping his hands together before placing them on his hips. "I'm really proud of you all today."

"Which is why you should let us go home." Jeonghan pipes up from behind you in the cluster of a group, smiling hopefully.

Joshua laughs sarcastically. "But then you'd miss all the fun!"

The smile dies on Jeonghans face as Joshua starts recanting the same little group seminar tips he gave last year. And the year before that.

Then he waves a hand out. "I've noticed that there's been some tension on the team lately, so we're going to heal that with some bonding time!"

Karina stiffens beside you, leaning in to whisper. "I'm already bored."

You giggle a bit as Joshua starts pairing up teams for an obstacle course through the park. Normally, you wouldn't care, that was until Joshua cited a twenty five dollar Starbucks gift card awarded to the winner. Oh, he had your attention now.

"Karina, I know you don't talk to Jeonghan a lot so you're with him!" Joshua says esthetically, while you sigh at losing two possible partners. Well, there was still Hao.

"Minghao and Vernon."

Well there goes that.

You finally are graced with the call of your name but are immediately shot back down to earth when the accompanying name leaves your managers lips. "..And Chan."

You immediately step up in protest. "Are we allowed to switch partners?"

Chan frowns but regains a bit of hope as Joshua shakes his head. "Nope, sorry but I have to be firm with this. In fact, you two are the tension I was referring to earlier."

"Are you kidding?"

Joshua narrows his eyes, gripping his clipboard. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"Joshua, with all due respect, there is no tension! It's just Chan being an idiot!" You complain, widening your eyes.

Ouch, Chan thinks. That went straight to his ego.

Though your boss stands his ground. "I would just like you two to work together for once."

You scoff, muttering a string of curses under your breath which Joshua pretends not to hear, Chan does as well. For the sake of his pride.

Your manager finishes reading the names off of the paper and announces the commencement of the challenge, which you could be less than excited about.

"For this activity, one of you is going to be blindfolded. This will help strengthen the trust you two have in each other."

Trust? You and Chan just looked at each other after you were handed the blindfold. You didn't even know what the objective of the game was yet.

"Part of this activity is deciding who will be blindfolded amongst yourselves." Joshua continues, rubbing salt into the wound.

"Well-" You begin, about to start arguing when Chan holds his hand out. He can see that you're definitely uncomfortable with the idea.

"I'll be blindfolded." He states.

"What?" He wasn't even going to fight you on it? "Really?"

He shrugs, trying to will his face from not turning red. "I trust you."

You blankly stare for a minute, trying to read a hint of humor or anything of that sort in his eyes. But you come up empty, his expression dead serious. You just handed him the blindfold, leaving him to fend for himself as he tied it around his eyes.

What did he mean he trusted you?

Karina finishes tying Jeonghan's when she turns back to your boss. "Now what?"

"You're going to lead them through the water course," Joshua smiles, although it seems a bit mischievous. He had to be getting a kick out of this. "The ones that come out first, and the most dry, win."

You gape, you were supposed to lead this grown ass man through the water course and not let him fall in?

"Lead your partner to the starting position, and then we'll begin."

You do a steady job at pushing at Chan's back to the finish line. You're less than enthusiastic about it though.

You line up among the others, knowing you'll probably come out of this ordeal soaking wet, and that's less than desirable.

The course is simple, lined up floating fuzzy blocks paced in a pathway like structure. Then you have to follow up a little climb of inflatable stairs. Then back down to the finish line. Easy enough right?

Chan's shaking right now, he's not looking forward to falling in and possibly being left to drown — as if he's not in the prescence of a group of lifeguards right now — as if he's not one himself.

He's still scared though, give him a break, he can't see!

He hears the sound of a whistle and you begin pushing at his back, leading him onto the first block. The weight of you two displaces the block, and you can feel the other block getting further.

"Okay, move about two inches onto the next block, don't fall." You instruct him and he follows, waving his foot around until he feels the safety of the makeshift ground.

You jump onto it after him, "The next one is directly in front."

And you're pleased as he lands right on it. The two of you are ahead of some of the others as well, Seungkwan already having fallen into the water, and Vernon still on the first block as Minghao tries to encourage him to move already!

"The next one is far, so I'm going to go ahead of you. I'll grab your hand after and pull you, alright?" You explain and Chan nods.

You do as you said and then hold your hand out, grabbing his palm and pulling him so the blocks float closer together. He carefully makes the step and you cheer a little in your head.

You only had one more block, then the stairs, and you were home free. You could practically taste your drink now.

Well, maybe if Chan hadn't almost fell over.

You grab both of his arms in an attempt to stop him, and you catch him just in time. He winces at the prospect of falling, and you squeeze him. "I'm not going to let you fall, okay? I've got you."

Chan's glad he can't see you, because then he'd bear witness to you noticing the growing redness of his face. And if he had to acknowledge it, then he'd jump into the water himself.

You two successful make it to the last block and you cheer, the others having more trouble with their team work behind you. The others seem to be having a hard time due to lack of trust in their guiders.

You notice that Chan had trusted completely in everything you had said, even though you knew he didn't want to splash in the pool.

You stare at him for a minute, and he starts talking. "Uhh, aren't we supposed to keep moving"

You shake your thoughts from your head. "Up the stairs now, I'll lead you, just hold my hand."

Before you know it, the two of you had made it to the end. You take off Chan's blindfold as you announce your victory. Throwing your arms around Chan as you celebrate. "We won! We beat those suckers."

"Those suckers are right here!" Karina says, panting as she comes down the stairs. She's wet, pulling a much dryer Jeonghan behind her.

You keep your hands around Chan as Karina explains. "He stepped back on the block and basically pushed me off on accident."

You giggle at that, face on a few inches from Chan as he tries not to combust. Lord, he was so in love with you. Your pretty eyes as they crinkled while you let out the prettiest laugh.

Karina notices and she lets out a smile. He really did like you, anyone could see it in his eyes.

You don't notice though, sliding your hands off of Chan as you jokingly tease Karina. "I won the card! I won the card."

Jeonghan pulls off his blindfold just in time for you to see him roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

Chan insisted you made a night of spending the card together. You didn't mind, telling him you'd meet him there after your much needed shower.

So here you sat in the Starbucks lobby, awaiting Chan as you had the card and he had already passed you his order. You tapped away on your phone as you hear the chime of the door and you hear someone sitting across from you.

You don't mind his presence, weirdly, you felt he was really vulnerable with you today. While it likely didn't mean much to him, it had you overthinking everything.

"Here's your drink, it just came out." You speak first, pushing the cup towards him.

Chan thanks you and drums his fingers on the side of the cup. "You know, I think this is the longest we've been together without you saying you hate me or something."

You shrug. "It's hard to be mad in a Starbucks. Place smells like heaven, plus you showed out in the game today."

He waves you off. "It's easy to trust you, we've known each other for long."

You snort. "More like you've bothered me for so long."

"Oh, admit it. I make your job more interesting. If it wasn't for me constantly causing a scene then you'd be bored out of your mind."

"I guess you have a point." You reluctantly agree as you sip your drink.

He smirks. "I know."

You purse your lips. "So, any updates with Karina? I know you two have been spending time together lately. Seems I was wrong."

Chan sighs. "No, I'm not into her in that way."

Brows raised, you chuckle, asking a question you already knew the answer to. "She's not interested or?"

"No, and neither was I." He states, eyes meeting yours. "She was never the one I liked."

You don't know why but you stutter a bit. "S-She wasn't?"

Chan looks away. "If it had been her and I out there today, I would've fell into the water."

"What do you mean by that, Chan?"

"You know what I mean by that."

...

You'd been avoiding Chan for the past two days, even constantly buttering up Joshua so you could be on the opposite side of wherever Chan was. It was wrong, you know, but you couldn't help it.

You were a coward, you couldn't even think about acknowledging any feelings Chan had for you. You only had a week left until the end of Summer anyways. Maybe if you ignored it you could move on.

You couldn't like Chan, not after the years you spent disliking him. Sure, had he done anything else to make you increasingly upset? Well, no. And he did usually brighten up slow days with his presence. And he did leave random water bottles by your chair when he knew you were too busy to go get one yourself. (He didn't know you knew, you figured this was his way of trying to get on your good side after the ordeal, but you never forgave him)

That was another thing too, how could he say he liked you after purposefully trying to embarrass you? Sure, it was a while ago, but you never forgot.

You're brought back from your thoughts when Jeonghan speaks, "I'm sorry, your child is not tall enough to ride this ride. It's regulation."

In front of you was an increasingly stubborn woman and what seemed to be her child as she whined about rules you had nothing to do with. "This is ridiculous!"

"It's regulated by the city, ma'am." Jeonghan shrugs. "You can leave a comment card up front if you have a complaint."

She just scoffs and storms off, stomping loudly down the stairs with her child in tow. You'd never understand some people.

Jeonghan turns to you. "Been here the whole summer and I'm still not used to it."

"You never get used to it, trust me."

He laughs in response, before changing the subject. "It's quiet up here, usually Chan's in the general vicinity by now."

You stiffen at the name. "He must be busy."

"He's never too busy for you." Jeonghan crosses his arms.

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Too busy to bother me?"

He suddenly turns serious. "I don't understand, Chan is nothing but nice to you and yet you're always ratting on him like he's a pest."

"You don't get it." You say, hoping he'll drop it.

He doesn't though. "Sure, he's a little overbearing at times but it's only because he really likes you."

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Say that he likes me."

"Are you stupid?" Jeonghan spouts, and you're shocked at his tone. "The poor guy looks at you like you hung the stars yourself and you always just brush him off like he's a nuisance! But you know what? Even after all the mean things you do, he does nothing but talk greatly about you. About how you're the kindest soul, about how your smile lights up his day. How you're the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on."

You stay quiet, holding back tears.

"He thinks you're the greatest girl in the world, you've just never given him a chance to tell you." He finishes, leaning against the railing.

"I don't believe you."

Jeonghan turns away. "Then you'll have to ask him yourself."

You open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your friend reads your mind. "I-"

"Go," He interrupts, jutting his chin in that direction. "Before it's too late. He's with Vernon at the flow rider."

You nod and take off down the stairs, mindful of the puddles of water on the floor, but your urgency remains the same. You had to know, you had to hear it from him. You need to know why.

It's not too far in the afternoon that there's a huge line, only a couple people standing around but Vernon's helping them. Chan stands to the side looking unoccupied, now was your chance.

Wading through the people, your heart beating against your chest, you find yourself standing in front of Chan.

He averts his eyes, unsure of how to start the conversation. He had gotten the message from your avoidance, you had made your point. "You want to, um, ride the flow rider or..?"

You clear your throat. "Do you like me?"

He leans back at the question. "I thought it was obvious."

"And this isn't a prank?"

He wipes his palms on his pants. "W-Why would it be a prank?"

"I don't know! How am I supposed to believe you after that slushie?" You say, genuinely distraught.

"What slushie?"

"The one you spilled on when I first got hired here! What kind of joke was that?" You ask, finally glad to let it out into the air after holding it in for so long.

"What do you mean? I ran off to get napkins and when I came back you were gone!" Chan answered, confused on why you even remembered that.

"You could've told me! I thought you had ran off to laugh at me!" You argued.

He stands, ignoring the attention you two had drawn from others. "I would've said something but I clammed up and didn't know what to say, you were just so pretty-"

You straighten up. "Chan, you're a moron."

He stills. "I know."

"I thought you were cute before then too. But I felt so embarrassed after that, I even had to pay for a new one because Joshua said someone took the spare."

Chans eyes soften. "I grabbed it for you, but as we know, I never got to give it to you."

You look down at the new information. "Oh."

"I like you, I really do." He begins. "I like a lot of things about you. Like your perseverance, your passion for this job, your love for your friends. Just one of these days I wished you would've talked to me long enough without ripping me apart."

"I'm a bit harsh, aren't I?"

"It's one of the things I like about you, you're not scared to put anyone in their place." He admits, and it was true. Chan liked all of you, not just your better qualities.

"This whole time I thought you were the jerk when really it was me." You remark, eyes on your shoes and the floor beneath you.

"I don't blame you, I'd hate me too." Chan chuckles.

You shake your head. "I don't hate you. In fact, these past few days have been so draining. As much as I complained, you gave me something to look forward too. Knowing I'd see you do something to get my attention, just didn't know why you wanted it so bad."

"Now you know." He steps forward. "And between you and I, I've done a lot of embarrassing things to get you to look my way."

"Oh, you did them on purpose?" You tease.

He playfully rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

You assured him that you believed him as you smiled. He grabs your hand in his, the two of you standing in the sweltering heat of the park. He rubs his thumb over your palm. "So what now?"

"Take me on a date."

"You want to?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't." You respond. "I want to give us a chance."

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."

BONUS:

"That bastard really did it." Seungkwan remarks, eyes bulging out of their sockets as he watches you and Chan flirt by the lockers before closing.

Karina stares on as well. "They're so cute that I want to throw up."

"Give them a break." Minghao butts in. "Today is the last day."

"Thank the Lord." Vernon approaches the others. "As if he couldn't get more annoying about her, I've had to hear him recount every date they've had so far."

Minghao cringes. "She's the same way."

Karina agrees. "I'm not even that bad."

Seungkwan looks over at her. "So how are thing with Mingyu anyways?"

Karina put her hands up. "Oblivious as always."

Shrugging, Minghao leans on the wall. "Should we just ditch them here and go?"

"But we haven't finished cleaning-" Jeonghan, who appeared out of nowhere starts before his voice dies down. "Yeah, lets go."

"They'll definitely be too in love to notice us leaving."

"For sure."

#seventeen #lee chan fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #lee chan fluff #dino fluff #dino fanfic #dino imagines #dino x reader #seventeen x reader #lee chan x reader #chan imagines #chan x reader #lee chan x yn #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt oneshots #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt lee chan #seventeen chan #seventeen dino

[rafeysbafey]

✮ visit from ghostface — ethan landry MDNI

summary. ghostface visits the reader on halloween

warnings. smut (obvi), degradation, rough sex, slight cnc, brief breeding kink, (TELL ME IF I FORGOR ANYTHING, i def did)

word count. 1k

🎃Happy Halloween🎃

you waited patiently for your boyfriend, texting him to come over whenever he was done with school work.

sitting on the couch scrolling through movies to watch, you mindlessly munched on the bowl of popcorn sitting on your lap.

it was a tradition for you and ethan to watch as many scary movies as possible on halloween, just enjoying each others company and pigging out on popcorn and store bought candy.

suddenly, you heard a noise come from the hallway, a "thump" sound echoing off the walls.

"eth?" you called out, huffing when you didn't get a response.

pushing yourself off the couch, you tossed the remote on the couch before making your way down the hall.

hearing another noise, you rolled your eyes at ethan's poor attempt to scare you.

you enjoyed scary movies, sure, but you weren't one to get scared easily.

your bedroom door suddenly creaked open, catching your attention as you let out an annoyed sigh, not wanting to deal with whatever ethan was up to.

"i know you're in here," you mumbled, entering the room to quickly meet a looming figure standing by your window.

he was wearing a ghostface mask and black robe.

classic.

"Is this what you were doing?" you asked, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the side.

he stood there silently. mocking you as he tilted his head as well.

"oh you think you're so funny, you want me to play along?"

ethan then nodded slowly, a small laugh falling from your lips as you shrugged your shoulders.

"please don't kill me mr.ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel."

your voice was teasing and mocked fear, followed by a giggle as you then stalked closer to ethan.

"but seriously, let's go watch the movie."

you went to take off his mask, stopping in your tracks as he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you closer to him, a yelp falling from your lips.

"ethan, cut it out."

he tauntingly shook his head, pulling you in so you were pressed against his chest as he bent over to whisper in your ear.

"i'm not ethan," a grainy voice spoke, sending chills down your spine as your eyes went wide.

before you could respond, you were turned around and shoved onto the bed, a yelp leaving your lips as he straddled you from behind.

"be a good girl and lay still," he spoke from above you, rutting his hips against your ass as you tried pushing him off, failing as he took your wrists and pinned them against the bed.

"my boyfriend will be here any second," you spat, not helping but bite down on your lip at the feeling of his cock pressing down on you.

"and then what?" he laughed, taking both your wrists in one hand before using the other to pull down your shorts, your underwear following.

"should we let him watch?"

"you're sick," you groaned, his fingers prodding at your entrance causing you to jolt against the feeling.

"you're pussy seems to think different," he chuckled, grainy voice deep as you shivered at the sound.

you felt him lean back over your body, his weight practically crushing you as you whimpered under him.

you saw the mask come into view, straining your neck to view him better as he leaned in close.

"try fighting when i let your wrists go, and i'll slit your throat."

your eyes widened in response, ghostface letting out an eerie laugh before letting go of your wrists, your fingers immediately running over the red skin.

before you could process what was happening next, you heard him shuffling above you, moving the robe out of the way to pull his boxers down.

you felt his cock slap against your ass, his length hard and heavy, pre cum rubbing against your skin before he moved the tip down to your entrace.

"wait-" you were cut off as he thrusted himself into you, an overwhelming feeling of pain running through you as you cried out loud.

"take it like a good girl," he groaned above you, loving the feeling of your warm walls squeezing the life out of him--he wasn't going to last long.

he started to thrust himself into you, pulling all the way out before sinking back into your tight walls, a moan dropping from both your lips at the feeling.

you felt impossibly full, tears streaking your face as the pain morphed into pleasure.

his tight balls slapped against you, his cock penetrating your insides and practically rearranging your guts as he set a brutal pace.

"fuck," you squealed, his hand coming down to wrap around your throat and yank you up, your back arching as you whimpered at the action.

"taking my cock like a slut," he cackled above you, his hips pistoning against your ass, his other hand coming down to strike it, hard.

you felt the familiar knot in your stomach start to form, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as he felt you squeeze him tight.

"cumming already?" he mocked, although he was close as well, "cum on this cock, milk my fat cock like the slut you are."

his dirty words went straight to your core, a small cry falling from your lips as you sunk into the mattress, his hand leaving your throat to grip your hips.

you felt your legs shake intensely, your walls clamping down around his cock as you released all over him, a loud moan leaving your lips.

"fuck, gonna fill you with my cum, have it drip out of you," he grunted, stilling his hips before releasing inside you, warm spurts of cum painting your walls and filling you up.

you don't know how long you laid there, taking his cum, but he was quite literally dumping himself into you.

you then felt him lean back over your body, holding himself up this time in order to not crush you.

taking his mask off, you turned to view your beautiful, fucked out boyfriend, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead as he flashed you a smile.

"how was that?" he asked, panting slightly as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss, his cock softening inside you as you hummed against him.

"perfect."

#ethan scream 6 #ethan landry angst #ethan landry fluff #yandere ethan landry #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry smut #ethan landry scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 ethan

[rafeandonlyrafe]

under the influence

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, dubcon, blackmail, mentions of forced sex, throwing up, drunk!reader

your head pounds as you stumble towards whatever light source is in front of you. your vision is glazed over, only amplified from how tired you are.

“y/n?” a voice calls out.

you open your mouth to respond but your feet trip over a crack on the sidewalk and you fall forward, barely catching yourself with your hands.

“ah, shit.” rafe groans, rushing over to check on you. he turns you over so your back is now against the pavement. “what happened to you?” “was at a party.” you manage to get out before turning your head and throwing up. rafe gathers your hair for you as you vomit onto the sidewalk. “got really drunk.” you say when you finish, spitting to get the taste out of your mouth.

“yeah, i can tell.” rafe scoffs. “want me to take you home?” “no-” you shake your head, looking up at rafe with tears in your eyes. “my parents would kill me if they found out.” your mind reels, tears suddenly falling which quickly turns into sobs.

“hey, hey, shh.” rafe tries to comfort you, his hand coming to rub over your shoulder. “shit, shut up. you can stay at tanneyhill.” “really?” you squeal, mood instantly turning around, a smile replacing your frown.

“yeah just… just get up, come on.” rafe helps you stand up, annoyed that you're ruining his plans for the night, but not wanting to leave you out here to fend for yourself. 

you know rafe mostly through your families, both being prominent members in the outer banks. you've grown up around each other, and while you’ve been kind of flirty in the past, in never progressed into anything.

rafe loops an arm around your waist, helping you walk towards his house. rafe had planned to walk to a party, probably the same one you're leaving from, before he came across you.

“are your parents home?” you ask, knowing that you'll have to sneak past them, as they will definitely tell your parents if they saw how obviously wasted you are. 

“no. it's just me at home. ward, rose and wheezie are gone for the weekend and sarah is who knows where.” rafe rolls his eyes at even having to mention his sister.

“probably john bs.” you comment, before throwing out a snide remark. “dirty pogue.”

it makes rafe smile, remembering that you harbor the same feelings towards the other side of the island that he does.

rafe leads you inside his house before having to basically drag you up the stairs. he leads you into a guest room before letting you flop down onto the couch.

“you know i had plans for tonight, and now i gotta stay here and make sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning.” rafe says, wanting to make sure you know how much of a pain in his ass you are being.

“im sorry.” you pout, and it stirs something in rafe, seeing you laying splayed out on the bed, sorrowful look on your face and big doe eyes looking up at him.

“you know, you could do something to make it up to me.” rafe offers.

“like-like what?” you ask, blinking up at rafe.

“suck me off.” rafe says, watching you process and then react to what he just said.

“but-but! we are friends rafe you don't want me to do that!”

“i wouldn't ask if i didn't want it.” rafe shrugs. “besides, i was definitely going to hookup with a girl tonight, so im settling with just a blowjob, unless you want me to fuck you too?”

“no, no.” you shake your head quickly. you think about leaving, about walking out of tanneyhill, but you're not sure your legs can carry you that far. “ill suck you off.”

“good girl.” rafe says, rubbing over his crotch as you reposition yourself, flipping to your stomach and moving yourself to the edge of the bed.

“you're gross for this, rafe.” you say, even as you swat his hand away and rub over his length through the layers of fabric.

“we can always stop and i can take you back to your parents. tell them what a naughty girl you've been, getting drunk then rubbing at my dick.”

“no, no.” you shake your head. “im gonna do it just give me a sec.” you unbutton rafes pants slowly before tugging the zipper down, trying to force your mind to sober up as he tugs his pants down, taking the underwear down at the same time, revealing his half hard cock.

“oh my god, you’re so big.” the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it, making rafe chuckle.

you cautiously reach for his cock, wrapping your hand around the base and slowly beginning to stroke up and down, waiting for him to fully harden before you even attempt to put it in your mouth.

“come on, y/n.” rafe encourages you, stepping closer and pressing his thighs into the edge of the bed. you open your mouth and cautiously take a lick over the head of his cock, eyes sliding shut when you realize how good he tastes on your tongue.

you quickly take more of him, mouth swallowing his cock as you bob your head. rafe moans, tangling his fingers in your hair as you work on his cock, all apprehension gone the second you actually felt him.

“fuck, if this is how good you are drunk, i can’t imagine you sober.” rafe groans. he never really thought about you in a sexual way before, always just a background character in his life that he’d joke around and flirt with, but it was never serious until now.

“yeah?” you smirk as you pull off, taking a deep breath, your hand immediately beginning to stroke him to make up for it. 

“we’ll see if you even remember this.” rafe laughs, tugging on your hair, forcing you to retake him in your mouth. you choke slightly before regaining composure, sucking his cock deep into your mouth, managing to go all the way down and pressing your nose into his skin. you credit the alcohol flowing through your veins as the reason for your gag reflex not playing up, along with the confidence you have managed to muster up.

“are you sure i can’t fuck you?” rafe asks.

you shake your head no while still swallowing around his cock. you know you’ll wake up and regret this, but the regret is a million times better than the punishment you would face from your parents.

“maybe in the morning.” rafe grunts, hands tightening on your hair as he begins to snap his hips forward, keeping your mouth in place, not caring that drool is dripping down your chin and that your hands are fisted on the comforter, gripping it so tightly that you can feel your nails digging in to your palm through the fabric.

“so good, baby. keep sucking.” rafe commands, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer.

rafe lets out a groan and you feel him swell inside of your mouth before releasing, cumming straight down your throat, his hands keeping you pushed down on his dick, even when you try to pull away and take a breath.

rafe makes sure you stay on him for his entire high, throat constricting around his dick until he pushes your head away, cock flopping out.

you cough, wiping at your mouth. “i can’t believe you made me do that.”

“aye, chill out, y/n. you were certainly acting like you enjoyed it.” rafe laughs, tapping your cheek as you recoil. rafe tucks his cock back into his pants, redoing the button.

“yeah, whatever.” you roll onto your back, moving so your head is back over the pillow. your eyes close, 

“scooch over.” rafe commands, making you furrow your brow and look at him.

“what for?”

“i like this side of the bed.” he explains.

“you’re not sleeping in the same bed as me, fuck off.” you wave your hand.

“nah, you’re too drunk. gotta make sure you don’t puke all over the sheets.” rafe explains, hand coming to your hip, pushing so you have no choice but to roll to the other side of the bed.

“too drunk to sleep alone but not too drunk for me to suck your dick.” you roll your eyes. “make it make sense.” “hey.” rafe glares at you. “don’t make me wake you up with my cock inside you. shut it.”

he reaches over and shuts off the light, casting the room into darkness. you let out a sigh to show your disapproval of the situation but don’t say anything more as the silence stretches out a few minutes. “rafe?”

“what?” 

“can you hold me?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction

[1-800-luvmail]

[ read part one w/ price here ! ]

reader who would rather skydive without a parachute than have their self sufficiency questioned vs cod men [ 2 / ? ]

könig assumed that when you invited him to bake with you, it was going to be a cute little activity for the two of you to do. a simple afternoon in your kitchen, making some baked goods to enjoy later.

he could not be more fucking wrong. you bake up a storm, leaving trails of flour, baking soda, sugar and whatever other substances you've used in your wake. you also seem to be eyeballing every single measurement. it's chaos. he's never seen a more disorganized process of making red velvet cupcakes.

the worst part is, könig can't seem to understand why he's even there.

"hey can you pass me th— nevermind, i got it." you say, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a bag of chocolate chips which was just a little too high. he's just a whole 6'10 ft of useless, standing in your kitchen, and getting in the way.

so instead of waiting for instructions, he choses to make himself helpful by attempting to clean as you bake. it works smoothly for the most part. he wipes up any milk you've spilt on the counter, places a batter covered spoon in the sink to be washed later (not before taking a little taste of course... and mess be damned, you're good at baking even if the sample he got was raw), and moves the bowls you don't quite need yet out of the way.

everything is going fine. you're talking to him like this is the most calming activity on earth and he's replying with little hums of acknowledgement and nods as he swiftly tries to get a little more batter from the whisk you've just stopped using.

"hey— no. you're gonna get sick. there's raw egg in there." you chide, just as he's about to sneak a lick. he wonders how you even noticed, considering you seem to be using 110% of your concentration on filling up the cupcake liners with just enough batter for each cupcake to be roughly the same size, which happens to be the only semblance of consistency you've had this entire baking session.

"i'm not going to die because of a little batter." he counters, amused by your concern. he can't help but chuckle.

you snort, rolling your eyes. "famous last words of an impatient man."

eventually, your baking frenzy subsides. the red velvet cupcakes are cooled after being pulled fresh out of the oven, you've made an insanely good homemade cream cheese icing to go on top (which you begrudgingly allow him one taste of. one.), and it's time to decorate. you've piped on most of the icing already, but the unsatisfied stare you give your baked goods allows him to piece together it isn't over yet.

"i think these need sprinkles." you murmur after a moment. your eyes glance around and eventually land on possibly the highest shelf in the kitchen. where the sprinkles just so happen to be. he tries to supress laughter when he sees the disbelief on your face. "motherfu—"

"i will get it." könig interrupts, stepping towards the shelf. you step in front of him, blocking him from getting there, hauling a chair with you.

"nope. won't need to. 'm innovative." he watches you set up the chair and get ready to climb up— only to gently grab your forearm and tug you back.

"famous last words of a stupid person." he scoffs, echoing your words from earlier.

you shoot him an exasperated look as you wriggle out of his grasp.

"c'mon, i do this like, what— all the time? hasn't killed me yet." you say, pointing at the shelf. "it's not that high. i'll just climb up to reach it."

"or you could swallow your pride and allow me to get it."

"and what fun would that be?"

he sighs at your response, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he mutters something to himself. probably in german. not like you could hear. you were too busy staring up at the shelf and getting the chair set up.

on one hand, könig wants to help to prevent you from potentially falling and eating shit, but on the other, he knows you well enough to understand there's no stopping you. so instead, he settles for a compromise.

könig moves the chair out of the way.

"i said, i'm getting it by myself. i kinda need the chair for that." you huff, glancing back at him, only to watch as he lowers himself, arms wrapping around your legs. "hey wh—"

before you can process, you're hoisted up into the air with a startling ease.

"alright," he isn't even trying to hide his smirk as he lifts you up, high enough to reach the shelf, "you can get it."

#val's 💭 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod warzone #call of duty #könig #könig x reader #he'll literally b ur personal ladder idk what to say #he's strong. and tall. might as well make the most out of it #i've actually had severe könig brainrot and honestly as someone who dgaf abt this man usually itz a welcome change #hes such a kyutie :33

[sunshine-on-marz]

Hi lovely could I please request for Spencer Reid where the reader is in the bau and is the only one who asks questions when Spencer starts rambling because she’s genuinely interested and one day Reid asks if she wants to go see a movie after she asked him about it and Derek is all teasing like you got a date pretty boy ? Thank you so much ❤️

Hi my love! Now I just adore this idea and I hope I do it justice! (Also, my sweets, I tried out something new with the writing style at the start, I'd love some feedback on that and the fic as a whole) warning: reader is called princess but gender isn't mentioned.

"I wanna hear"

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer Reid, ever the genius, is entirely clueless to social cues.

Oh good lord that boy just doesn't pick up on it!... is what you would say if you didn't adore his rambling tangents. Jesus, all of it is perfect. All of him is perfect. But, not everyone sees the beauty in art. apparently.

"Reid, thanks for that, anyways." Derek starts to cut Spencer's rambling off, you watch Spencer's face fall, and it's entirely heartbreaking. You gently grab his hand "Keep talking Spence" you smile and he looks confused. "really?" he asks, you nod. "yes, I wanna hear." you assure him as you clasp his hand between both of yours, his eyes light up. He rambles on about the connection between 8 different serial killers with a specific disease and how despite them never meeting their killings looked almost like copycats. In all honesty half the words are out of your vocabulary and the rest of them are spoken to fast for you to pick up on details, but you listen to every single sound that makes it past his lips, even if you don't process it all.

"so they never met? did the know about the other killers?" you ask, resting your chin on your hand and he shakes his head "no, they didn't know about each other until they were arrested" he answers. "Hm, that's really interesting spencer, like, that's super cool- well not cool but you know what I mean", he chuckles "Yea, I know what you mean."

You were smiling bright enough to light up a room as you ask your next question. "Do you want to hang out sometime? Like after work... just us?". He nods "I'd love that."

There's a small gasp through the bullpen after his response. You and Spencer look over and see the team eavesdropping.

"Pretty boy and the Princess are goin' out!" Derek cheers, the girls laugh and you and Spencer blush.

Its going to take a while for the teasing to stop, surely, but it's all worth it for Spencer.. at this point, you might call anything worth it if it's for Spencer.

It's short and sweet but I just adore this <3

@the-phantom-author - Who promised to hype me up

@thesockbehindthewashingmachine - Who will hype me up without a promise

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series (Temporarily Complete)

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Mostly sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)

Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension. When investigating Viper, Emily doesn't fall for his tricks, and in fact - spends the night teasing him by showing more interest in you. Little did she know, she was driving you insane in the process. (2,800 words.)

The Perfect Brat - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Spencer acts up, so you and Elle put him in his place. (2,900 words.)

Loverboy - Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You try your hardest to make Spencer's first time a good one. (3,100 words.)

Black Suit - Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong. (2,900 words.)

From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. After JJ is attacked on the Hankle farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind. (3,000 words.)

Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. When the team takes a case in your hometown - a secret that you have been trying to hide for years comes to be known with a vengeance. (18,000 words.)

Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Morgan calls you Reid's 'Mommy', and you don't think much of it - but Reid can't get it out of his head. It accidentally slips out of his lips, and you like how it sounds coming from him. (6,300 words.)

Pathetic - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!GN!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. Spencer gets punished again - in a very creative way. (2,600 words.)

She Keeps Me Up - Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. JJ is very protective of you - and very possessive of you. When an UnSub leaves a tiny scratch on you, she feels the need to remind you exactly who you belong to. (3,100 words.)

Careful (Series - Complete) - Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut. When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers. (57,400 words.) | Series Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six (Finale)

Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss Kink Headcanons

Random Spencer Reid Headcanons

JJ Being Protective Of You (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic Reader)

The Scale of Dominance and Submissiveness in The Criminal Minds Characters (Headcanons)

How would Spencer react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

How would Spencer react to you fainting around him?

How would Spencer, Emily, and Elle react to getting proposed to?

How would Derek, Emily, and Spencer react to your daughter being clingy with them?

Note: This last fic links off to AO3. I'm probably not going to edit it and post it on Tumblr - it's going to live on AO3. So if you want to read it, you can do so at this link.

Burn The Witch - Spencer Reid x (BAU)Fem!Reader. Mutual Pining Co-Workers. Heavy Angst, Smut, Casefic. (Series - Complete.) You weren’t sure which you regretted more: acting on your feelings for Spencer, or writing them down first. But there wasn't much room for regrets when a psychopath was waving a gas can in front of your face and telling you he intended to turn you to ashes. (69,900 words.)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader

[elodieunderglass]

the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

#mody bick

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

#bjnet #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #mark #mark lee #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark angst #mark fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #mark lee oneshot #mark oneshot #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshot #nct 127 oneshot

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Do Your Worst

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s lover is having a hard time, but no amount of acting out can push him away

Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)

Notes: Sorry for the silence, I’ve been having terrible writer’s block but I think I did okay with this one!

Image Credit: Pinterest

Today was rubbish. Probably one of her worst days yet. 

It had been exactly two months since Hybern captured her from Azriel’s post and took her to their war camp deep in the Spring Court’s woods. Exactly two months since she’d been tortured for information she’d die before giving up. Exactly two months since she’d made peace with her death. Rhys couldn’t track her immediately, Mor and Feyre’s searches came up empty each time, and even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up a clue. Azriel had driven himself mad, downright insane, trying to find her. Each day he spent every waking hour looking for clues, scouring the forests for her scent, and each day he returned to bed with nothing to show for it. It took Amren and Nesta a month to finally locate her. In that month she laid cut and bruised, chained to a wooden post like an animal, struck, cut, and burnt for every question she refused to answer. They left her in the middle of that camp, exposed to the heat of the day, the cold of the night, the rain, the wind, and the thunder. They made her into a spectacle. 

She only thought of her family, her Azriel, the entire time. My Azriel, she’d think each time they brutalized her. My Azriel, my Azriel, my Azriel. Rhys collapsed when she allowed him into her mind after they brought her home. He would never forgive himself for sending her on that mission, nor would he ever show his brother what she’d shown him, for Azriel very well would have sent Prythian to immediate war. 

And while the cuts, bruises, burns, and broken bones would heal completely, the skin of her back would forever be changed, marred with angry, raised scars from a heavy leather whip. She could barely walk. 

The first time Azriel saw the lashes on her back, he was helping her undress the night she returned home. Each movement caused her to cry out in pain. She tried to bite her lip, clench her fist, grip Azriel’s arm, tried anything to keep from crying, but nothing helped– the pain was too much. It would’ve been a mercy from the Mother to fall apart, limb by limb, bone by bone, instead. 

Azriel had seen all the other scars when Madja was working on her; those alone made him sick and wild with a hideous rage, potent enough to crumble the mountains surrounding the city into nothing more than powder on the ground. The lashes on her back– the thought of some wretched male stripping her and lashing a whip over her soft, warm skin in the mud and rocks– filled him with a fury so intense, so horrid, he could’ve wrapped his bare arms around the sun and pulled it down to earth. Set everything on fire. 

That very night, with names in his ear courtesy of the shadows and Cassian and Rhys positioned at her door, Azriel made each of those names pay. He was back by sunrise, tucked into bed beside her, wing draped over her restless body, and she was none the wiser. 

“You’re killing it,” Madja’s appointed physical therapist, Jarrah, encouraged as he watched her do her exercises. He was tall and muscled with glittering, golden-brown skin, looking ever the Summer Court high fae that he was. 

“It’s killing me,” she ground the words out, mincing each syllable as they passed through her teeth. Pain gripped her legs, lower back, and upper arms like a vise as she fought to complete a rep, the movements squeezing every last bit of energy out of her and collecting on the mat below in puddles of sweat. “I can’t do it, Jarrah.” 

“You can and you will,” he squared his shoulders at her, smile fading as he willed her to find her strength again. In recovery, he’d taught her, there were good days and there bad days– healing was not a linear process. 

Some days she did well in physical therapy and pushed herself– the pain only meant she was getting stronger. Azriel would be absolutely beside himself with pride and their friends echoed as much. 

Other days, her body seemed to give out in protest, the pain too unbearable, and she’d wonder if she’d ever be the same again. Azriel would encourage her– she knew it wasn’t pity– but she couldn’t stand it all the same. She’d collapse onto the floor against her will during physical therapy, shoving Jarrah away with shame when he’d tried to help her up each time. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dead of night, clammy, and nauseous from a nightmare that felt more and more real each time she had one. Azriel held her to his body whenever she’d jostle awake, heaving and shaking, stroking his warm hands up and down her arms. Other nights he held her hair back as she retched her dinner into the toilet, panting and crying silent tears. 

“To expect linearity is to set yourself up for failure,” Jarrah lectured during their very first session when all she wanted to do was get to the hard stuff, to prove that she was alright– that she was still whole. Jarrah did not mind her bad days, but something died within her every time she left training without making any notable progress– every time her body failed her when her mind seemed to be giving its all. 

From the moment they started their session this morning, Jarrah noted her body was fatigued and her mind was somewhere else. Oh dear.

“We can take a break–” 

“No!” She buckled down and held her position, determined to prove to herself that even on her worst days she could succeed. It was the most enthusiastic response Jarrah had gotten all session from her so he allowed it. He watched her body tremble from the strain, the sweat bead at her temples, the fatigue in her eyes as she fought the pain in her spine. 

Her body could not bear it anymore. She felt her traitorous legs give out beneath her and the ground came up faster than she could register, faster than Jarrah could react. A strangled cry crawled from her throat as she collapsed and her body trembled in a pain her mind could barely process. 

“Fuck,” a familiar voice rang out from the gym’s entrance and Azriel ran in. Just great. What was he even doing here? After the first training appointment in which Azriel could barely keep himself from choking out Jarrah and coddling her, he agreed to not interrupt her sessions thereafter. His disregard for their agreement made her feel so small. 

“Fuck,” Jarrah echoed. He was at her side in two steps, arms outstretched to help her up, but she scooted away as fast as her leadened arms would allow, turning her face away in shame. 

“Don’t touch me!” She croaked. 

Jarrah stopped himself by the time Azriel was at her side, crouching beside her and taking up what felt like all of the oxygen in her space. Breathe, she tried to remind herself but with Azriel hovering and Jarrah a foot away, both watching her crumpled pathetically on the mats, she couldn’t. 

“Are you alright?”

“Get her some water!”

“That’s enough for today, let’s get you some food.”

“... My love?”

Azriel’s soft voice pierced through her terrible thoughts. She felt his strong hands reach under her armpits to help her up but she pushed against his biceps, swatting him off in a desperate attempt to move away. But the pain made her so dizzy, it was difficult to create any real distance. 

“Don’t!” she cried out, for it was all she could do, and Azriel dropped his hands immediately. “I can get up on my own.”

Azriel didn’t move. Jarrah placed a comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “We should give her some space.”

Azriel clenched his jaw but it didn’t stop the twitching of his upper lip. He stood abruptly, swiveling on his heels so his face was only mere inches from Jarrah’s, who’d since quickly retracted his hand to himself. To his credit, he kept his shoulders square, but even he wasn’t immune to the pure threat in the Shadowsinger’s glare. 

“My mate is in pain, she can’t even stand up, and you want to leave her like this?” He growled. 

Anger grappled her lungs, stealing whatever air she’d managed to collect. That was the problem. “I can stand up, Azriel. I’m not made of glass.” 

It took her a few minutes, but she did it. She first rotated her hips so she was on her hands and knees. With one foot underneath her, she pushed herself up, trembling, sighing, moaning as her body resisted the upward movement, but she finally stood. 

Azriel clenched his hands at his sides to anchor himself back, to resist from helping her. He knew she was capable of doing anything, that she didn’t really need him. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to pursue her all those years ago was because she was so independent that it intimidated him. Azriel wasn’t sure what he brought to the table, what he could do better that she already did for herself, how he would fit into the life she’d built for herself. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he would still do anything for her. It didn’t take away that primal need to protect her. He tried his best not to suffocate her but sometimes he couldn’t help his instincts when his love for her outweighed everything else.  

She allowed Azriel to link his arm with hers as she waved goodbye to Jarrah, silently apologizing for Azriel’s outburst. 

“Let’s get you something to eat, yeah?” His voice was soft as he led her out of the gym and to the townhouse’s sunlit sitting room. “You did so good today, love.”

“I’m not hungry.” Was all she replied. She couldn’t stomach anything after such a rubbish session. Fear that she would never be the same ever again set in, but nobody would understand. No one could even fathom what it would do to her if she couldn’t keep doing her job, going on these missions, protecting this city. If she was relegated to a desk for the rest of her life, she’d have lost everything she’s ever worked for.

“Sure you are. At least something small to keep the medicine down.” 

Madja had her on a cocktail of herbs and elixirs– something for the pain, something for the scars, probably something for how fucked her mind had become– she couldn’t keep track. Azriel kept track for her. She swallowed the pills and the bitters he gave her and allowed him to rub the salve into her scars before bed. Whatever. This was life now– being shoddily held together by some combination of antibiotics, gauze, and ointments. 

She shook her head in defiance and Azriel sighed, stopping her just before the doorway to the living room where the rest of their friends sat. She was so stubborn– if she didn’t want to do something, no one could get her to do it. It was a quality he admired but also a quality that drove him downright mad at times like this.

“What’s bothering you?” 

“You mean besides healing at a snail’s pace and sitting on my ass all day in this house while everyone else goes to work– fulfills some sort of purpose? I’m doing just great.” The smile did not reach her eyes. 

Azriel tilted his head as if to say No, really. I know there’s something else. He could read her like a damn book– it had always been that way. 

She hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I don’t know if I’ll be the same ever again.”

Azriel’s face softened at the anxiety that weighed on her shoulders so heavily they sagged. 

“Of course you will, love. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s been two months and I can’t even climb the stairs without needing a break. My body hurts by the time I go to bed. I can still feel my back– the scars–” the words caught in her throat and she quickly cut herself off before she choked on them, unable to talk too much about it without feeling her body and mind repulse. 

“Come here,” Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her frame and pulled her into his body so close their hearts beat in sync before each other as if in private conversation. “The physical training, the medicines, the therapist, you’ve got it all going on. No one here is working harder than you right now.”

“But what if it isn’t enough,” she mumbled into his chest, a single hot tear catching on the fabric of his sweater. She turned her face into his chest to wipe the tear away completely and Azriel’s heart broke for her. He wished he could reach into her chest and pull out the pain with his bare hands, fly with it to Ramiel and drop it at the peaks where it could never find its way back to her ever again. “You know better than anyone, you could do everything right and it still wouldn’t matter. I just need to get better. Be myself again.”

“I will love you no matter what happens. Even if you are never the same, I will still love you. This changes nothing.”

She pushed him away abruptly, hastily wiping away tears as if Azriel couldn’t see them. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him, about him loving her. This was her life. If she couldn’t get back to who she was, fill the roles she’d spent her whole life caring about, where would she stand among her family? Where would she stand in this life? In this world? 

“But it changes everything for me,” her eyebrows furrowed incredulously. “I want my body back, my mind back. Thanks for letting me know you’d still love me if I were to be this fucked up forever, but that’s literally the last thing on my mind right now, Azriel. I don’t want to be fucked up forever, I want to get better, and I need you to want that for me too.”

Azriel tried to find the right words, stuttering in his search to say the right thing. He didn’t mean it like that. He only ever wanted the best for her– would kill for her to have what’s best for her. “I-I didn’t mean–”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She huffed, storming past him into the sitting room. Instant guilt flooded her as soon as she left him. Azriel helped however he could. Perhaps it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t put himself in her shoes in this very situation, but he’d gone through something traumatic too, and Azriel definitely knew a thing or two about helplessness. Still, she felt so alone. Azriel tried, but he wouldn’t understand what it was like to be a woman tortured in a camp full of males. What that took from her. She wouldn’t explain it. 

Azriel watched her storm off, feeling as if he was failing her all over again. Every night, he watched the dullness in her eyes grow as he handed her the medicines. When she laid down in their bed with practiced monotony so he could rub the salve into the scars stretched across her back, he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. They were nasty things, raised and swollen with blood and she flinched every time he touched them, as if he were delivering the lashings all over again. She was hurting and he felt so helpless. He vowed to always protect her and take away her pains but he could do neither of those things and the thought of it ate him alive everyday. Only the Mother knew the true lengths he’d go to for her. That man would do anything. 

In the sitting room, Azriel brought her a sandwich that he put together in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen insisted that would make it, but he politely refused. He wanted to be the one to do it. 

“Az, I told you I’m not hungry,” She murmured as he handed her the plate. 

“You need to eat something if you want to keep the medicines down,” He reasoned again. 

“I know what Madja said, I was there,” She snarked, crossing her arms. She was so tired of people telling her what to do. Jarrah telling her what exercises to do, Madja telling her what medicines to take, Rhys telling her that she shouldn’t try to work again so soon, Feyre telling her she should take more walks, Cassian telling her to drink less wine, Azriel forcing her to eat more food. 

“Okay, darling,” He placed the plate on the table when she wouldn’t take it from him. 

“Turkey and swiss, okay!” Cassian peeked at the sandwich, nudging her arm. “And he cut it in half too.”

“Just the way she likes it. In half though, not diagonal– too much crust in one bite if it's cut diagonal,” Azriel smiled from where he sat across the table from them. She could have cried at the sight of him, at the love in his eyes, in his voice. Words were never his strong suit but Azriel more than made up for it in acts of service. This was how he showed his love. This was him reaching his hand out, begging for her to take it, to let him in. To let him help. 

And she didn’t know why she had such a hard time letting him in. She didn’t want to seem incapable of anything, and letting herself fall apart the way Azriel would allow her to terrified her. She’d never fallen apart before. She didn’t know how she could do it without completely tearing herself and every past wound open again. It broke her heart to watch his smile falter when she didn’t reach for the plate. 

“I’m going to bed,” she stood up as quickly as her body would allow and left the room. It was too much. Azriel’s disappointment, everyone’s expectations, watching her, studying her, readying themselves to be there for her if she did explode. She never needed this much attention in the past– to receive so much of it all of a sudden made her feel like she was made of porcelain and everyone was expecting her to shatter at any moment. She could hardly breathe in that room and needed to get out before something within her cracked further. 

The stairs loomed before her, mocking with how many there were. Grabbing the bannister until her knuckles paled, she hoisted herself up one step at a time, maneuvering her body so that her entire weight wouldn’t be on one leg for too long. 

Nesta appeared behind her, climbing the steps she’d taken over the course of minutes in just mere seconds, with a stack of books in one arm and a handful of her gown in the other. Nesta stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around and looking down at her through long eyelashes. 

“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted. 

“Fuck off,” she meant to sneer, but it came out in a breathless huff instead. Pathetic indeed.

 Nesta let her skirts fall from her right arm as she extended it toward her. 

“I don’t need your help.”

“You definitely do.”

“Don’t you have those smutty little novels to get back to?”

“Shut the fuck up and take my arm, or bust your ass on these stairs, I don’t care.” 

Begrudgingly, she took Nesta’s arm. Neither of them spoke, but Nesta patiently guided her up the stairs, supporting her where she needed it. Out of the entire Inner Circle, she got along the most with Nesta. Their conversations usually followed a very similar pattern as this one did, but only because they each saw a little piece of themselves in the other, even if they never mentioned it. 

“Heard you being a bitch downstairs,” Nesta finally spoke when they cleared the last stair and stood at the landing so she could catch her breath. 

She couldn’t find it within herself to take offense. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. I don’t know why I do this,” she confessed. She didn’t need to explain further. Nesta automatically understood. When they locked eyes, that silent comprehension flowed between them again and for the first time since arriving back home from the war camp, she felt relief. The kind of relief that made your heart beat out of your chest and go a little dizzy. The kind of relief that came from being completely understood without having to spend the energy trying to put the thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words. 

“I know. It’s not your fault.” The words fell softly from Nesta’s lips. It was the last thing she said before she led her to the library. They sat in arm chairs across the fireplace and read for hours in each others’ company. No one came looking for her. No one tried to force a plate of food down her throat. No one wanted her to do those stupid mobility stretches. Nobody was asking her if she was okay. It was everything she needed. So why did she still feel restless, like something was missing?

Azriel.

She left the library after she’d calmed down. In the quiet, amongst the books, when she thought that was all she needed, she felt misery instead. She needed Azriel. She wanted to lay in bed with him forever, feel his skin on hers forever, stay in his warmth forever, feel their heartbeats sing side by side forever. Azriel forever. Nothing else would compare. 

When she reached their room, it was empty. Disappointment flooded her chest, but she knew Azriel was giving her space. As she moved closer to the bed, she found a new plate of food waiting beside a note. A remade sandwich, cut down the middle as always. 

Your favorite. Was all the note said. 

Indeed it was. She polished off the sandwich in a matter of minutes, as ravenous as she was. Actually, she was hungry when Azriel first offered one to her in the sitting room, but she was too stubborn to take it then. 

The bath towel beside the note on the bed was warm to the touch. From the soft sound of trickling water in the bathing room, she knew he’d run her a bath. The air above the tub smelled of sandalwood– his scent. As she stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water, the scent encompassed her as if he was in the room with her right then, waiting to join her. 

Surely, an hour or two must have passed. Her eyes pried open, the water and soap around her body in the tub still warm and feathery like a winter duvet. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, only that it was the best sleep she’d gotten these past two months. For the first time since coming home, she slept with no nightmares and no nausea to rouse her from rest. She didn’t even dream. She simply passed out.

When she finally left the bathroom, her body wrapped in the towel he’d warmed for her, she found Azriel sitting on the bed with a book nestled in his large hands. As she stepped through the doorway of the bathing room, he looked up, smiling softly. Pure love shone in his eyes like a beacon, flashing and blinking in the darkness that war camp left her in. 

At the sight of his soft smile, the gentleness of his features, the relaxed sag of his shoulders, she felt something break. 

Sensing a shift in her demeanor, he lowered the book, eyebrows knitting together. 

"What's wrong?"

Those two damned words. She bit the inside of her cheek, walking weakly to Azriel's side of the bed. He placed his book on the nightstand and sat up straighter, anticipating her next move. 

She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and laid her upper body against his torso, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his body tightly, breathing him in like he was the oxygen she lived off of. Anything else, anything that was not Azriel, and she could just die right there. 

He brought his arms around her tightly, heart sinking when he felt her hot tears on his neck. She did not shake. She did not sob. He only felt the wetness on his skin and the erratic heaving of her chest against his as she fought to regulate her breathing.

He did not say anything else. He held her, unmoving except to rub her back or run his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair. His other hand held the back of one of her thighs to keep her in place as she grew increasingly limp in his arms. 

"I've been such a wretch." Her voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I've been such a wretch to you. I'm sorry Az."

"Oh my love," He held her as close as he could, willing her to feel the love he held for her in his chest. His love for her ran everywhere his blood did, from his toes to the top of his head, every day and every second, his astonishment of her coursed his body like an electrical current keeping him alive. Without her,  there was no pulse. 

"How do you put up with me?" He felt her wipe her nose on his shoulder and he couldn't help the smile on his lips.

"Because I love you, and I know your anger has nothing to do with me."

"But you should not have to put up with it."

"I will put up with anything when it comes to you. You don’t ever have to worry about that when it’s you and I,” He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes. “You went through something horrible. You’re going to need time to work through it all, but I will be here for every moment of it. I’m sorry if I’ve been suffocating you, darling. I only do it because I can’t help it. When I see you hurting I wish I could take all of it from you and put it in me.”

“I never want you to hurt,” she told him earnestly. The thought of him going through what she did filled her with rage so sudden and consuming she couldn’t begin to imagine what Azriel felt when they finally found her at the camp. 

“I could never when I have you looking out for me,” He smiled that cheeky, boyish smile that came out so rarely. 

“I’ve just been having so many bad days. I should be happy that I’m back home, that I’m safe now. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, and it comes out at the wrong times in the wrong ways. But I don’t know what I’d do without you, Az.” 

“Even on your worst days, you’re the best of us. So do your worst. I can handle it." 

The disbelief in her eyes melted away when he cradled her head, smiling earnestly– and gods, she wished she could commission Feyre to paint him like this– a man smitten. With all the tonics and creams Madja had forced on her, she had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would truly heal her. They helped the symptoms, but never the cause. She’d accepted that it would take a damn miracle to heal the cause. And here Azriel was, pleading and lovely, looking like her damn miracle. 

She let him undo the towel from around her body and lay her into the soft covers, warm from where he sat while she was in the bath. Turning over, Azriel smoothed the salve over her scars as he did every night. But for the first time in months, she finally replied to his attempts at starting conversation as he worked. For the first time in months, she laughed genuine laughs that felt only slightly foreign– much like old friends– in her throat. For the first time in months, as he tenderly slicked Madja’s balm over her scars, praying to the Mother for her health over each one he touched, she did not flinch. 

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