#the numbers are higher than ever so why do I feel more lonely than ever? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nahalism · 16 days

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Have you ever beaten yourself down or felt defected because you couldn’t uphold a routine?

I am going through something like this now. I see people around me who, of course to varying degrees (but some excell in) getting their diet, sleep schedule, studying/working, exercising routine in check, having a plan. And whenever i try, for the love of me, i just cannot uphold it. I can’t be consistent, my brain just doesn’t work like this but i keep hearing that it has improved peoples’ lives so much, developing a routine and sticking to it. And i know me not having one is probably not in my favor (studying whenever i have the ”inspiration” to because otherwise my brain just shuts off no matter how i try to trick myself instead of regularly and smooth sailing through assignments as a result) can’t go to sleep and wake up at the same time every day INCLUDING WEEKENDS can’t eat regularly. So i try to improve myself and chase this but all it does is reflect to me that i am just not able to and it makes me feel even worse about myself. And i personally know people who ARE able to do all of that and i can see it pays off in so many ways, in their life. My thoughts get in the way, my feelings get in the way and they make me pretty much not functional for periods of time and i am not sure if these people experience the exact same „wall” and they consistently push through it or if maybe my wall is just a big higher and stronger than theirs sometimes. I feel like my brain is against me, truly. (Probably relevant to mention that i do have some mental problems overall which could be affecting all i mentioned and the way i function, it still feels so defeating to me)

such a long message, i am sorry. i hope you are love lately x

hey beautiful <3. my reply will be equally as long if not longer so no need to be sorry :)

yes. lol just, yes. ive been through the exact same feelings that you describe and even though i struggle less now, i struggle less only as a consequence of my ability to be kinder and more tolerant of myself, not because ive magically changed into someone different. — ill try to explain what i did to help but ill be honest, theres only ever been one solution for me which is to do the work. its hard, its lonely, no one comes to help, or to save you, they even stop pretend ing to care. people will try to support you, but despite best intentions may fall short or lack the capacity to give you what you actually need. so you have to be the one. you have to carry yourself over the finish line, often at the cost losing things, people and parts of yourself that you think you love and cant do without (its soul wrenching but worth the initial discomfort, i promise). every breakthrough is hard earned and often doesnt even feel like the cherry on the top that its supposed to be. so the only way to find the will to keep going is to enjoy the challenge of the journey and learn to love what choosing to 'carry your own cross' is developing in you.

1) the first thing i had to do was make that cross worth carrying for myself. not because id been told to do it, had to do it, or because 'self care' is important, but because I was priority enough to myself that i found the willpower to see it though. to make that possible i had to understand why i was my number one priority, and then make my actions reflect that. it sounds heroic but it looked like excavating my soul, saying no to anything i didnt want to do, and anything i did out of obligation. that included essays, exams, my job, friends, family. maybe that sounds extreme but i realised that all those things meant nothing if the person who was meant to be showing up for them didnt want to be alive/was in anyway unhealthy, or was so dysfunctional that they showed up as a semi sane version of themselves. my whole personality was a trauma response, and even despite the trauma i had to look at what i was doing to create the circumstances i was unhappy with. going from responding unconsciously to consciously choosing my actions was brutal. all of this sounds empowering but it often looks and feels shambolic & looks like being a fuck up. i literally appeared to the outside world like someone who had gone off the edge and was failing at life. for context, making the choices im talking about led to me retaking a year at uni, being a ghost to everyone and everything in my life, having panic attacks every night because despite feeling like i was doing the right thing i had no evidence it would work and no idea how id make it out & all this lasted for way after i graduated so people were looking at me crazy :). HOWEVER, its also how i learned to draw, how i restored my relationship with myself, how i found the passion and excitement to work toward a goals i had set (not the ones set for me). i also became confident for the first time in my life. like actualll self esteem and self knowledge. i hated being seen or perceived due to things id been through, and still struggle with that now tbh. so when i look at the fuller version of myself im embodying today, the multiple ways ive put myself outside of my comfort zone, (and the versions of me i know are to come) i know that the first steps began with following my gut and taking that initial leap of faith that honoured the truth of who i felt myself to be, not the pattern id been following/living in.

2) that first step is important cause when what you do what matters to you, you gain a different willpower (aka passion) that fuels what you do and why you do it. i spent my whole childhood with e.d's and unable to consistently work out/find working out pleasurable. however once i built a relationship with myself and understood what a body was and why it deserved my respect, working out stopped being about the pressure to be a fine babe, and about desiring mobility, full function of my vehicle and longterm health. i say that to say, sometimes its not that your undisciplined, but that your trying hard at the wrong things. (an undisciplined or inconsistent person doesn't keep trying at things despite failing time and time again...). another way to look at it is — a goat is not meant to be a sheep, nor a sheep a goat. theres nothing wrong with being either, but you have to know which you are. (this takes us back to point one: are the things you put pressure on yourself to do/be/accomplish, authentic to you or are you imposing them of yourself because of pressure/expectation/superficial reasons). if its the later, you cannot wait till you have the answers to change the direction your moving in. you have to pivot, take the next step in the direction that feels purposeful and deeply honest to you, and trust that even though you cant see the whole path, the next step will be revealed as you continue to walk forward. the mental illness doesnt go away, but it fades as your tolerance increases. its not meant to be easy, if you can remember that then you'll be okay.

3) you dont have to do it perfectly. you just have to do it. over time, ive had routines w/ varying success. my overarching interests, goals/priorities are the same, but they fluctuate which means i can struggle with consistency and seeing things through (not cause i dont want to be consistent but i feel like i change so rapidly as a person that i almost forget why i set certain goals for myself and why building the routine/proficiency in skill was important to me in the first place). in this sense, its hard to accomplish a goal if you dont relate to the version of yourself you were when you set it. so part one to this point is, i have to use my quirks to my advantage. i know that i tend to cycle through my interests every 3 months ish. so, i set goals that can be accomplished in 3 month cycles rather than over the course of a year. in doing that i achieve small steps toward the larger, more diverse vision of my life i have for myself, meaning i could have one goal - lets say financial freedom - and 3 projects over the course of 9 months that feed into that goal. this works for me because i know i can sustain deep focus over the course of those three months and so will accomplish what ive set out to do. — but whats key for you, is that you find out what works for you. if you start to embrace your needs and what makes you different, you can also embrace the ways it makes you and your approach unique and innovative. rather than a hinderance or a source of 'why cant i be like/function like everyone else'. ——— that leads on to the second part, which is learning to carry the good with the bad. e.g. — whilst the way i fluctuate makes me multifaceted, it also means that one month im focused on art (my style) & reading, the next i might be on philosophy and writing, right before i get back to gardening and portrait practice, then cycle back to learning languages or an instrument. that level of commitment to multiple disciplines means what could take me 3 months to accomplish if i had a single minded focus, gets dragged out into a year long affair. lmty, its almost as frustrating to make slow progress as it is not to progress at all. so sometimes i feel like ive come so far only to have achieved the bare minimum. ive had to learn to appreciate that slow and steady approach (rather than chasing immediate perfection which leads to burn out) and be grateful for the fact that even though its taking long, at least im moving in the right direction. eventually ill learn the skill of expediting each of my processes, but right now this is where im at. extending that kind of grace and mercy to yourself is the biggest part of this all. because if i know im not good at structure, and im specifically struggling with it at this moment, maybe i dont need to hyper-fixate on having a morning routine right now. maybe for the next few months, its not about doing yoga the moment i wake up (even if i know thats best for me) maybe i just need to do yoga at 'unspecified time today'. maybe i dont need to sleep at 10pm. i can actually start work at 10pm, and go to sleep at 6 am. as long as i do yoga, as long as i go to sleep, as long i *insert task*, that is enough for right now. infact more than enough, its a victory. so, work on your own schedule and embrace it. trust that you've set goals and failed before but that you are still here and still committed to getting it right next time, which means you are a trustworthy person who can rely on themselves to show up for themselves. the more you practice not giving up, the smaller the gap between your ability to take action, which means the greater your ability to develop the skill of routine. perhaps not a conventional routine, but routine just means habit. over the course of your life, you are building the habit of not giving up. or of consistently coming back to & developing skills you wanna build. that is the desired outcome, not the structure of how you achieve that, but the fact that you have achieved some form of taking action consistently.

last thing i want to leave you with is the way i see and feel you. you could have asked me anything, you could have asked me nothing at all, but you chose to ask me about how to improve your situation. in that sense, your words have betrayed what your will and your desire is. the things we desire today, dictate the person we become tomorrow, and so i know without a doubt that its not a matter of if, but a matter of when you achieve these routines, their outcomes (& so much more, you cant even imagine whats on the other side). <3. it takes a very special kind of grit and resilience to fail and to try again. you inspire me and remind me of the qualities that make humans truly beautiful, truly necessary and truly precious. so dont give up, dont go under. none of this is meant to break you, just pull out what is inevitable to who you are and what you are meant to be. it is going to be hard, but you are not alone even when you are alone, and when you make it out the other end you become a testimony for others, (& evidence that they arent alone either). keep fighting, i believe in you, sending big love & a big hug xx-xx

#ask #🖤

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years

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Hey!

If you’re still taking requests, may I ask for a Venti darling with Scarabia and anyone else you like!

(Love my wind gremlin (Ｔ▽Ｔ))

Yep I love Venti oh my god- He's so beautiful and his voice JJDBHDHDHDH- But obviously I still love Geo Daddy and Lil miss Ganyu as my number ones-

And instead of a lyre, how about a guitar in replacement? Also added in Floyd.

Hope you enjoy! ^^

Recalcitrant, carefree, and playful, you're a free-spirited individual who is bold, and doesn't care about insults thrown at you, and ignore those of higher authority.

You love roaming, and spreading about joy with your acoustic music, having a genuine, lighthearted smile to liven up the mood.

But even as playful as you are, you're someone down to earth; philosophical, wise.... solemn. Deep down, you're a lonely soul.. Perhaps NRC can tune a note to your heart?

TWST The Carefree yet lonely guitar player, s/o (Venti)

Kalim al Asim

Kalim is fond of you're cheery attitude!

He especially loves listening to the sound of you strumming your acoustic guitar, as you pluck at its strings, letting your voice flow smoothly like a calm river.

To him, you seem like a cheery, optimistic and fearless, and he aspires to be like you!

You're just someone who can stand up for yourself, and he wants to be somewhat independent like how you are, too!

You just seem to make the atmosphere more lively!

It doesn't matter who hates you, you still continue to play your guitar, and spread around happiness to those feeling down in the dumps.

That's very sweet of you!

But when he learns more about you, he feels so sorry you feel lonely, and that your friends in your world have left you one by one.

No one deserves to be alone! Especially you! Someone who has always been there for others and spread about their music to those who feel sad and lonely.

He spoils you with love, care and company, and he exclaims how sorry he is for you.

You told him very fondly and gratefully with a soft yet solemn expression,

"Well, I might say I've gotten over it, but I guess avoiding the feeling would only make it find you easier. The feeling of loneliness is inevitable. And it's not just the feeling when no one's there to be here with me at times. But... the feeling that no one wants you around..."

You sadly smiled at him, with an expression of genuine gratitude. "But.. thank you, Kalim. I thank you for being here for me!" you giggled.

Kalim could only pull you into a hug, telling you he's happy he's you're here for him too <3

Jamil Viper

At first, Jamil is quite irked with how annoying you can be.

With your cheery, bold and carefree attitude drives him nuts.

You're like Kalim but with attitude-

It's worse-

Dear sevens-

And you constantly annoy and tease him by playing on your guitar at times.

"DID THE LIGHTS JUST WENT OUT-"

*you come in and strum your guitar* "When your lights don't work like they used to before!~"

"OH STFU-"

Yeah-

But Jamil wasn't going to lie; you can make him crack up a lot. You're just so fun to be with as much as chaotic, and he won't admit it, but life couldn't have been more fun with you.

You played a song on your guitar, strumming and plucking at its string as it released an upbeat acoustic version of dancing music, as you invite him to dance along to the rhythm.

He had fun, and he felt a lot calmer and much happier after a tired day of doing his vice dorm leader duties.

He can't help but smile.

So it surprised him when he found out how lonely you felt.

For someone who has been playful, rebellious and annoyingly cheerful and cheeky.. he didn't expect you to feel so... sad. But I guess people wear masks to cover their true emotions, huh? He can relate with that.

He starts understanding you a bit more, and realize that you have always went all out to make people smile and he tries his best too in his own way. With his cooking, dancing or company, he sticks with you.

"Heh.. Thanks for being with me, Jamil. I don't look like I'm who I am. But, I guess I feel bummed out by how my friends left me. Whether because they didn't found interest in me or they.. well.. left off to a better place.. But when I look back, all of the people that have left me are like a reflection of who I am. The type of friends you make reflect who you are as a person. I'm glad you guys have shown me that I'm not as bad as I see myself, of course, I'm better~" you teased him at the very last part, as you winked with your tongue sticking out at the corner of your lips.

Your words... are very wise. He could only look at his hands, before placing one over to cover both your hands.

"I'm glad to have you too, s/o."

Floyd Leech

Floyd finds you fun!

Maybe it's because you get him.

Of all people, you're philosophical mind masked by your humor is relatable to him. His way of thinking is different and unique than most others, and someone like you really digs it.

"Yeah, cheesecake is just cheese on the birthday cake! Wanna do that to Azul?"

And apart from that, you have been his favorite prank buddy.

You're incredible for that, and he cracks up so much when you just talk to him. You're naturally funny and hilarious to him, and you've never failed to make Floyd's day.

His mood swings do get the best of the eel, sometimes he feels sulky, angry or sad because of his peers nagging and what not, and he just doesn't feel like talking to you.

You play for him a soothing tune on your guitar, carefully plucking at it's strings like porcelain, as you strum and hum with a soft and gentle tone.

He's much more relaxed, and he sometimes would fall asleep on your lap, dreaming about you playing a never ending tune for him in the sea if that could ever happen.

He's much happier with you, so he doesn't get it when you told him one day you feel sad.

Why is shrimpy sad? He's confused.

When you told him about your sudden episodes of feeling lonely, he's suddenly curious. he gets mood swings.. but feeling.. lonely?

"I'm not saying I don't enjoy your company, trust me when I say I do. But... when I look back to the past.. I can't help but miss my friends. The ones who find no use in me no longer and the ones that went to a better place... I miss them all. You.. have always made my day less stormy and much sunnier. I can't thank you enough, Floyd. All my loneliness.. just shows me how desperate I am in need of myself. I'm sure you must have felt so lonely before to think no one's around to think about you.. But, that's where I'm so thankful to meet you."

Floyd could only stare you with wide eyes. He.. doesn't know how to feel, but immediately pull you into his embrace.

"I've never felt lonely when I met you, shrimpy.." <3

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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A Little Voice Told Me - Pt. 3

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 2: HERE Previously on A Little Voice Told Me...

The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. Any anger or tension that the boys previously had was instantly replaced with worry about your well-being.

Asmodeus was the first to reach you. He quickly pulled you against him and held you as tightly as he could. "Easy now, dear. It's okay," he glanced up to look at his brother anxiously standing around the two of you, itching to comfort you but unsure as to what they should do. You trembled in Asmo's arms and fisted his shirt in your hands, no doubt wrinkling the expensive fabric. "They were right, were-weren't they?" you pulled away just enough to look up at Asmo. The poor man nearly choked on the remorse that filled him at the sight of your tear-filled eyes pooling with sadness, despair, and, most disturbingly, acceptance. "Y-You guys are breaking up with me? You-You finally realized you could d-do better than a-a-a-" you tried to continue but became too overwhelmed with emotion as you began sobbing once more. Satan rushed forward and placed a hand on your shoulder. "MC, hold on. We're not breaking up with you." You hiccupped as the others began to crowd around you. "B-But Asmo said you guys wanted to talk and I-I thought that maybe th-those other demons were right and y-you guys didn't want me anymore." With those words alone, you had shattered the hearts of every person in that room. In seconds, you found yourself in the middle of a group hug.

No one said anything. They simply wrapped you up in their arms and supported you as wept. Although they had been seconds away from tearing into each other moments before, none of that mattered if you were hurt. You would forever be their first priority. "Beloved, we love you exactly the way you are," Lucifer whispered softly as one of his hands caressed your back. "Whatever those simpletons said, they're wrong. They don't know you; just like they don't know us." Belphie was running a hand through their hair, hoping that his influence would help calm you a little. "If we could, you know that we would tear apart every person who ever spoke badly against you," he could feel his anger towards the idiots that caused this build-up again inside him. Satan nudged Belphegor's side and gently shook his head. The youngest demon sighed and rested his head on top of yours. "Even we aren't strong enough to control city gossip. We can't change what they think, necessarily, but we can make sure that you know that it's not true." You trembled in their arms as your cries slowly dwindled down to the occasional sniffle. "Th-They said that you guys were only dating me o-out of pity and that I was nothing compared to you, a-and how I was jus-just a nuisance," you whimpered as you recalled the hurtful words. "A-And I know that's not true. It was so stupid because I know you g-guys love me. B-But it made me r-realize just how insignificant I am compared to a-all of you. I d-don't understand wh-why all of you would settle for a human who won't live nearly as long as you, and w-who can't even use magic." Mammon frowned deeply as he squeezed one of your shoulders. "Treasure, look at me," you shakily did as told. Mammon was staring down at you with a desperate, anxious expression. His eyes found yours and your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. "Those assholes don't know what they're talkin' about. You're not insignificant. Even here in the Devildom, surrounded by all these different beings, you are so much higher above them. You're the brightest jewel among us MC. You're the only person to have ever formed pacts with all seven of the Lords of the Devildom. You're the ambassador of the human world. You have brought this family closer together in just over a year than anyone has managed in the centuries that we've been alive." Your lip quivered as Levi rubbed your arm. "He's right. I'm the literal embodiment of envy. I can tell you right now that all those people are just saying those things because they're jealous. They're nothing but low-level slimes. But you? You're the big boss that could have them destroyed with a snap of your fingers." Beel looked down at you guiltily as he patted your back. "I shouldn't have left you alone like I did. Even more so, I should've paid closer attention to what was happening around us. I'm sorry you ever had to go through this MC." You released Asmodeus to hug Beelzebub as you snuggled close to him. "It's not your fault, Beel. They were really careful about it when you were around. You couldn't have known," the redhead didn't say anything, he just bent down to envelop you in his arms. The eight of you stood there in the dining room, nestled closely with one other, taking silent comfort in one another without a single care for the world around you. "I think perhaps we should move this to the living room," Asmodeus offered as the boys began to release you from their hug. "Beel can make some snacks, Levi can find us a good movie to watch, Belphie can go gather a bunch of blankets and pillows and the rest of us will stay with you to make sure you don't get too lonely," he cupped your face. "I think a nice lazy day in would be good for everyone. Does that sound good, Beautiful?" I chuckled tearfully and leaned into Asmo's touch. "That sounds perfect. You guys are so nice to me. I don't deserve-" You never got to finish your sentence as Asmodeus captured your lips with his own. With that one kiss, you could feel your worries and doubts melt away as you could feel every ounce of affection,

desire,

and love that Asmodeus felt for you pour into your very being. "That's where you're wrong, dear," he purred softly against your lips. "It is us who don't deserve you," he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand into your own and leading you to the living room. He looked over his shoulder and smirked at his brothers. "Go gather the things. We'll just keep the couch warm while you're at it," you could hear the wink in his tone. "Oi! I want a kiss too!" "Y-Yeah, Asmo! You can't hog MC! That's not fair!" You giggled at Mammon and Levi's protest as you snuggled up to Asmodeus. You were so silly to think for even a second that these demons who follow you around like love-sick puppies would ever tire of you for a second. You were their everything, and they were yours, and nothing anyone said would ever change that.

***And scene! That was a wild ride, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for supporting me with this mini-series and thanks once again to @ang3lsblues for the request that inspired it all!***

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

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WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

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deancasheadcanons · 3 years

Text

Slightly Gayer

[ao3]

7.3k words post-15x18 domestic Dean/Cas (loosely) inspired by this artwork by skepticalfrog

Dean is sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and halfheartedly scrolling through the news. He can’t focus because his eyes keep drifting over to the other side of the kitchen, where Cas is cooking breakfast and talking on the phone with Claire.

Cas looks different, is the thing. He’s wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs and one of Dean’s old gray t-shirts, neither of which fit him right. Since becoming human, Cas exercises constantly, stacking his arms and legs with thickly corded muscle.

But he eats, too, and loves eating as much as Dean does, so his stomach juts out big and round from his muscular chest, several inches of tan underbelly visible out of the bottom of Dean’s shirt. The fabric is caught in the crease between his chest and belly, taut around the outline of his nipple rings. The sleeves are also too tight around his biceps, revealing the Enochian tattoos that extend from shoulder to elbow of each arm.

Dean knows what Cas looks like, of course he knows. He knows every inch of his perfect body. But the way Cas moves, Dean is still getting used to. Still studying.

Cas has the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, his hands occupied with making pancakes and eggs. He has his weight shifted to one hip, his butt sticking out even more than it already does, and he keeps waving the spatula around animatedly as he talks. He takes a drink of coffee, then scratches his belly, then gestures with his hand, flipping his wrist rather...limply.

He turns around to the kitchen island to plate the pancakes and catches Dean staring at him. He smiles and winks in his direction while continuing his conversation with Claire.

Dean tries to look back down at his phone. He makes it about five seconds before his eyes find their way over to Cas again. He takes a long drink of coffee and sets his mug down as he stands up. He strides over to Cas and comes at him from behind, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his soft neck. He kisses the tattoo that’s on the juncture of Cas’ collarbone and neck—Dean’s name in Enochian.

“I’ve gotta go, Claire,” Cas says, his voice as deep and gravelly as ever. “Tell Kaia I said hello. Yes. OK, bye.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ belly and presses long, slow kisses to his neck.

Cas turns the stove off and moves the eggs over to a different burner. His hands, now free, fold over top of Dean’s. He laces their fingers together.

“Claire said they’re thinking of coming by to visit in a few days,” Cas says, leaning his weight back against Dean.

“Mm. Good.” Dean continues his kisses.

Cas huffs a laugh and rubs his hand up and down Dean’s forearm. “Feeling affectionate this morning?”

“Always. C’mere.” He tugs at Cas to get him to turn around in his arms, then he fits his hands to his hips and presses his flat torso against Cas’ gut before leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

Cas puts a hand to the side of Dean’s face and the other on the counter behind him, supporting his weight against it. He moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue hungrily into Dean’s mouth and rolling his hips in an intoxicating rhythm.

They stop after a few minutes. Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across his cheek as he smiles softly up at him.

“What?” Dean asks self-consciously. He circles his own thumbs into Cas’ love handles.

“Nothing,” Cas replies, his smile widening. “You’re just very beautiful.”

Dean ducks back in for another quick kiss. Then, “You move differently than you used to.”

Cas tilts his head to the side, furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, uh, I don’t know. Your mannerisms...you’re more feminine. Gayer.”

Cas laughs and drops his head forward. His hand falls away from Dean’s face, and he flips it out palm up. ��Well, Dean, I am gay.”

Now Dean is laughing. He pulls Cas closer to him and once again pushes his face against his neck. “You were just so stiff before.” He pulls back again and looks Cas in the eye. “I don’t like thinking that you were, I don’t know, holding yourself back. Repressed.”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Yes, please, tell me more about how I was repressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He squeezes a soft hip. “I’m starving, let’s eat.”

They sit perpendicular to each other at the kitchen table. Cas rubs one socked foot up and down Dean’s calf while they eat.

“Do I move different?” Dean asks with a mouthful of eggs.

Cas frowns at him, mug of coffee in his hand. “Is that a trick question?”

“Oh god, I do, don’t I?”

“Well, first of all, Dean, your voice is an octave higher than it used to be.”

Dean blushes and shoves more food in his mouth, avoiding eye contact.

Cas leans his elbows on the table, closer to Dean. “And you carry yourself differently. You’ve always been confident in your body, but you don’t posture anymore. You carry yourself in a more relaxed way—like when we’re walking, and you keep one hand in your pocket and the other holding mine. You don’t puff your chest out so much, and it makes you look more natural.”

“Gayer?”

Cas laughs again. “Yes, Dean, I think when you, uh, rub my lower back and kiss my temple while we wait in line at the grocery store or something, you definitely look gayer than you did before.”

Dean reaches over and tangles their hands together, swinging them back and forth playfully on top of the table. “Can’t help it,” he says gently. “If you’re near me, I gotta touch.”

They smile shyly at each other. Cas eventually moves Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “I’m not too gay for you, am I? My mannerisms don’t bother you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re fishing for a compliment.”

“So give me one.”

He scoots his chair closer to Cas’ and moves his hand under the table, spreading his fingers over one of Cas’ thick thighs and squeezing the soft muscle. “I’m fucking thrilled that you’re comfortable in your own skin, sweetheart. I love the new ways you move, and I love how you’ve made your body your own. I get distracted staring at you so much that I can’t even read one crap news article without looking at you.”

Cas takes a deep breath. A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away delicately. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing you say stuff like that to me. Not even in my most self-indulgent fantasies did I imagine...”

Dean laughs and tugs on Cas’ shirtsleeve, coaxing him over to him, patting his legs so Cas straddles his lap. Once they’re settled, Dean rubs soothing circles into Cas’ back fat and looks up at him reverently.

“I’ll always think you deserve better than me, but, uh,” Dean starts. “I guess if you want me instead of somebody better, then I gotta be the best version of myself. I’m sorry I wasn’t this me sooner.”

Cas presses their foreheads together. “You mean this gayer version?”

Dean laughs into a kiss. “Only took you confessing your love and dying for me to get my head out of my ass.”

Cas puts a finger to the tip of Dean’s nose. “No, actually, it took more than that. Seven months after I came back, Dean. It took you seven months.”

Dean winces. “Worth the wait?”

Cas sighs and kisses Dean’s cheek before climbing laboriously off his lap, grunting as his gut shifts. He pulls at the hem of his boxer briefs to get them down over his huge thighs; Dean pinches his butt as he walks away.

In the time it takes Cas to refill their coffee mugs, Dean’s phone rings.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sam asks.

As Cas comes back and hands Dean a mug, sliding his arm gently across his shoulders before making his way to his seat, Dean says, “Having breakfast with the love of my life. What do you need?”

“Eileen and I are going on a hunt, gonna take a few days. Can we drop Jack by later today?”

“What? The kid can’t stay by himself in the bunker?”

Cas flattens his lips and raises his eyebrows, silently chastising Dean. Dean throws his hand up and shrugs.

“He’s 4, Dean,” Sam says.

“He’s as powerful as God, Sam.”

Jack’s voice comes through the phone, sounding far away. “I don’t like staying here by myself. It’s lonely.”

“Of course you can stay here, kid,” Dean says loudly enough for Jack to hear. To Sam, he says, “But make sure you stop by the store on your way and pick up some food for him, because Cas and I are on a diet.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks.

“No,” Dean scoffs. “C’mon, dude. I’m sure the kid’ll be thrilled to get some real food instead of whatever rabbit food crap you and Eileen feed him.”

Cas snorts a laugh and tucks back into his stack of pancakes, pouring more syrup over them before taking a bite. Dean watches him, obsessed with the dainty way he holds his fork.

“You know, it’s gonna catch up to you one day,” Sam says. “You’ll wake up and suddenly realize you look like Cas.”

“Mm,” Dean hums, eyes still glued to Cas. “You mean I’ll be hot as shit?”

Cas winks at him.

“Yeah, I walked right into that one,” Sam mutters. “See you this afternoon.”

“Bye, Sam.” He hangs up.

“I don’t know why you goad him into judging our eating habits,” Cas says. “He asks about my weight every time I lift with him.”

“What? I’ll kill him.”

“No, it’s—”

“Where’s my gun? I’m gonna kill him.”

“Dean,” Cas says, exasperated. “He only asks because he doesn’t see me every day. You’d notice I was getting bigger, too, if you only saw me every week or so.”

Dean pouts at him, offended. “I touch you and stare at you constantly every day, of course I fucking notice. You’re big, Cas. And you take good care of yourself. Sam can mind his own fucking business.”

“I don’t need you to defend my honor to your brother, you insane man.” Cas stands and picks up their plates to take them to the sink. “And you need to limit the number of ‘fucks’ you say when Jack gets here.”

“Jesus, when did you become such a nagging wife?”

Cas turns away from the sink, sets a hand on the shelf of his belly, and says in a deadpan, “When I became pregnant with our third child.”

It’s a joke he stole from Dean, but Dean still lets out an embarrassing laugh like it’s the first time he’s heard it. He then joins Cas in the kitchen, hugging him from behind again and sneaking a hand up under his shirt so he can cup one of his pecs, teasing his thumb over his piercing. He kisses the shell of his ear as he mumbles, “I’ll clean up in here. I know you wanna go work out.”

Cas shuffles around in his arms and kisses him languidly. Even though they’ve been together for months and have shared at least a thousand kisses, a thrilling warmth washes over Dean’s body every time Cas initiates.

“What?” Cas asks gently when they break apart.

Dean kisses him again, squeezes his sides. “I just love you so much.”

Cas fights his smile and fails. He runs a hand up through Dean’s hair, which Dean is growing out, because Cas likes to touch it. “I love you so much, too.”

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tight, nuzzling his face in his neck while Cas fists his hands in the back of Dean’s t-shirt. “Loved you for so long. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Cas squeezes him. “I should’ve, too.”

Dean clears his throat as they break apart. “We’ve turned into the biggest fucking saps. Go, go lift your silly weights.” He shoos Cas out of the kitchen and smacks his butt as he goes. “And hey! Don’t forget to walk your sweaty body through here on your way to the shower.”

Over his shoulder, Cas says, “Of course. I would never deprive you of that, Dean.”

When Dean finishes cleaning the kitchen, he heads to the living room where they’ve set up a workspace to help hunters out. Sure, it would be easier to do the job from the bunker, but Dean and Cas wanted their own space, a homier environment for hunters to stop by and rest. They have a room for Jack, a room for Claire and Kaia, and two extra bedrooms for anybody else who shows up—although, one of the rooms is half-full of Cas’ exercise equipment.

Dean has his eye on a rundown bar down the road, too, but not enough time has passed since they committed crimes to get a loan for their house, so he has to wait before they can buy it.

While Dean is doing research for a case that Garth is working on, Jody calls.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Dean answers, putting her on speaker.

“I’m three hours from your place,” she says, sounding tired. “Can you guys take the kid again for just, like, one week? Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, Jody,” Dean replies, his posture straightening with excitement. “But you already knew that, because you’re already driving her over here.”

Jody laughs. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean. See you soon.”

Dean shoots a text to Sam: Raven’s gonna be here, too. ETA?

Sam texts back right away: Whenever we feel like it o’clock.

Bitch, Dean types.

Whore, Sam replies.

When Dean and Cas got together, they didn’t get the chance to tell Sam. They were on a hunt, and Sam was at the motel doing research while Dean and Cas ate dinner at a bar nearby. Cas was talking about the case and reached over and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, and something about the gesture broke something inside of Dean. He blurted out, “I love you, too,” like a fucking idiot, causing Cas to nearly choke on the fry.

The truth was that Dean was in shock when Cas came back from the Empty, and he could not believe that this ancient unknowable being actually loved him. But then Cas was human, and ordinary, and he grew more comfortable around Dean as his body filled out. Easy warmth and affection radiated from him, like loving Dean was as natural to him as breathing.

And Dean knew that his own feelings couldn’t be buried anymore. They were clawing their way to the surface with each day that passed, until finally they burst free with an I love you, too over a stolen goddamn French fry.

They finished their meal quickly and quietly, then they walked out to the Impala together and Dean couldn’t wait a second longer than the nearly 13 years he’d already waited, so he pushed Cas up against the driver’s side door and kissed him.

“Oh,” Cas breathed between their mouths.

“What?” Dean mumbled.

“I didn’t—realize—when—”

Dean moved to kissing Cas’ softening jaw and neck so that his mouth was free to talk.

“I wasn’t sure you meant you loved me like this,” Cas explained.

Dean abruptly pulled away. “Oh. Uh, did you not—we don’t have to if you don’t want—”

Cas cut him off with a bruising kiss. “No, no, I definitely want.”

“Thank god.”

It had taken all of their willpower to get in the car and drive back to the motel, and Dean had barely put her in park before dragging Cas to the backseat and messily stripping clothes off. There wasn’t nearly enough space, so they ended up rutting against each other while making out like horny teenagers, and that’s when Sam knocked on the window.

Dean cracked it the smallest amount, his body still tangled with Cas. “We’re a little busy here, Sammy.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m gonna get another room so you guys don’t have to do...this...out here.”

“Sammy, you’re the best brother in the world,” Dean said stupidly as he and Cas struggled out of the backseat, holding their clothes half-on, shirts and overshirts and jackets in hand and jeans unbuttoned. Dean dragged Cas by the hand up to their room.

And so Sam (homophobically, in Dean’s opinion) started calling Dean “whore” instead of “jerk.”

Dean is typing on his laptop when Cas clears his throat from the hall. Dean looks up immediately, raking his eyes up and down Cas’ glistening, swollen body as he walks shirtless toward their bedroom.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, come back here,” Dean says, scrambling to get up, tripping over his own feet, then finally making it to Cas so he can squeeze his biceps and press kisses to his sweaty shoulder.

Dean moves his mouth down Cas’ collarbone and chest, hunching his body so he can get a better angle as he works his tongue around a nipple ring.

Cas cards a hand through Dean's hair. “Do you want to shower with me?” he asks patiently.

Dean reluctantly lets go of his nipple and straightens up. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Their shower is just big enough for both of them, but it’s too difficult to do much more than wash each other’s bodies. They talk loudly to each other over the spray, which is why neither of them hear the front door open and Sam and Eileen announce their arrival.

Dean walks out to the kitchen wearing a towel around his waist and one around his hair. Sam and Eileen are making sandwiches while Jack sits on a barstool at the island reading a book.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Dean says. He grabs a La Croix out of the fridge and takes a long drink. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Cas comes in next, wearing just boxer briefs, his wet hair dripping water onto his body. He greets everyone then puts a hand on the small of Dean’s back and kisses his cheek. He takes the La Croix right out of his hand and drinks it before giving it back.

“Cas, are your nipples pierced?” Eileen asks, shocked.

“Oh, yeah,” Cas says flippantly. He pats the tattoo of Dean’s name on his shoulder. “Dean talked me into it when I got this.”

Dean mutters, “Not like you needed much convincing.”

“So are you guys gonna bother putting clothes on, or…?” Sam asks bitchily.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for existing in my own house,” Dean teases. He settles against Cas’ side; Cas wraps his arm around his hip. “Maybe if somebody had told us when they would be here, we could’ve been ready.”

“Yeah, well, we were anxious to get here,” Sam says, looking pointedly at Eileen. “We have some news.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds like something I should be wearing clothes for,” Dean says.

“I’m pregnant,” Eileen says and signs. She makes a face like she’s sorry about it.

Cas sucks in a sharp breath. Dean’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, uh.” Sam sighs and throws a hand up. “We’re not totally sure how we feel about it, you know, never really planned on…”

“We don’t want to stop hunting,” Eileen finishes for him. “But if there’s a good reason to stop, this is it.”

“We can help,” Dean says quickly. He nervously sets his water down on the counter so he can sign and talk. “You know we’re always willing to take care of a kid. Especially a baby.” He looks over at Jack. “No offense, Jack.”

“I told them I would help, too,” Jack says cheerfully. “I would love a little brother or sister. And I can heal most injuries other than death, so if they keep hunting while Eileen is pregnant, it’ll be OK.”

“We’ll be here every step of the way,” Cas adds. “Whatever you need.”

“Yeah,” Sam says solemnly. “We know it’ll be OK, we’re just...I don’t know, I’m just not naturally maternal like you, Dean.”

“Come here, Sammy,” Dean says, walking away from Cas and putting his hand up on Sam’s shoulder to bring him down for a hug. “You’re already a great dad. You’re not gonna fuck the kid up, I promise.”

Sam laughs and squeezes Dean once before letting go. He frowns down at Dean’s bare torso and says, “OK, go get some clothes on, please.” Under his breath, he mutters, “I don’t understand how you and Cas even fit in a shower together.”

“Hey.” Dean points a menacing finger at him. “If you don’t lay off my boyfriend, he’s gonna use his massively buff arms to kick your ass.”

“No, I’m not,” Cas says in a monotone, flipping his wrist to blow Dean off. He kisses Eileen on the cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

“What? I’m not—I don’t care what Cas looks like,” Sam says. He opens the fridge and gestures dramatically to it. “I just think it would be good every now and then if you guys ate, like, one vegetable.” He looks Dean up and down. “Also the fact that Cas works out and you don’t, you look like a skinny little beanpole next to him. He makes you look ridiculous.”

Dean crosses his arms and pouts. “He likes how I look. Says it makes him feel big and strong when he picks me up.”

Sam and Eileen both laugh. Eileen asks, “He picks you up? What, like during sex?”

Dean blushes. He halfheartedly says and signs, “No, I mean, like, when I fall asleep on the couch and he carries me to our bed.”

Sam and Eileen laugh harder.

“I think it’s sweet,” Jack interjects. “I would never laugh at your relationship with Cas, Dean. You two love each other very much.”

Eileen rolls her eyes. “Yeah, perfect little angel over here has never said a mean word about anybody in his life. We get it, Jack, you’re better than us.”

Jack straightens his back and smiles, proud of himself. Dean passes by him on his way out of the kitchen and squeezes his shoulder in thanks.

“A baby, huh?” Dean asks excitedly as he rummages through his and Cas’ closet for some clothes. “We should plan on staying in the bunker with them for the first few months, you know, help them out and stuff.”

Cas scoffs from the master bath. “You just want to hold a newborn.”

“Yeah, so what?” Dean joins him in the bathroom, taking his towels off his head and waist and hanging them back up on the racks. He takes a piss while Cas stands at the sink messing with his hair.

Cas is wearing a pair of black joggers and a faded pink tank top, a denim overshirt sitting on the counter. A long chain rests against his chest between his big pecs, three rings hanging from them. Two of the rings are Dean’s old ones, and the third is a new one Dean picked out for him when they moved into their house together.

Dean checks his hip against Cas’, nudging him out of the way so he can wash his hands at the sink.

“Does it bother you that we can’t just accidentally have children?” Cas asks, turning toward Dean seriously, unaffected by his naked body.

“What? No,” Dean answers. “Why, does it bother you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dean grabs deodorant and pushes Cas’ arm up so he can apply it for him. “We got plenty of kids, honey.” He does the other arm. “And we’re old. I don’t need us to be the sole provider of a child for the next 18 years.” He picks up the denim shirt and helps Cas put it on.

Cas places a gentle hand on Dean’s bare hip and rubs his thumb in circles against his skin. “I just think...I think about how perfect Jack is, and how if I was still an angel and could’ve borrowed a female vessel for a while, then maybe we could’ve…”

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” He pats the slope of his belly. “OK, no more jokes about you being pregnant. It’s fucking with your head.”

“Mm, yeah.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Dean’s mouth. “Now be honest with me, does this shirt make me look fat?”

Dean laughs as Cas expands his big stomach out and pulls at the fabric of the tank top to make it tight.

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” Dean jiggles his belly. “Fat and very gay.”

“Thank you.”

Dean puts on his usual jeans and flannel over a plain black t-shirt. He also has a necklace with a ring Cas gave him, but he wears it under his clothes and out of sight. He likes feeling it against his skin.

They eat a quick lunch with everybody before Sam and Eileen head out for their hunt. Cas and Jack go in the backyard to tend to Cas’ garden, which is full of beautiful flowers and absolutely no vegetables.

Jody shows up right when she said she would, and she passes Raven off to Dean before she’s even stepped in the door.

“I’m gonna spend the night here if you don’t mind,” Jody announces as she kicks her boots off.

Dean is cooing at the baby and tickling her belly with one finger. Right now she has dark olive skin and a head full of black hair and big gray eyes, but that could change any minute. Jody got her just a few months ago when she was trying to help her mom, a teenage shapeshifter, but the girl had a lot of complications and died during childbirth. She asked Jody to name the baby Raven after Mystique from X-Men.

Jody, claiming that she’s too old to raise a baby on her own, brings Raven over to Dean and Cas’ for at least one week per month.

“Dean?” Jody presses.

“Hmm?”

“I said I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” He kisses the baby’s head. “Cas and Jack are outside. Make yourself at home.”

Under her breath, Jody says, “Give a baby to Dean Winchester if you want him not to pay attention to you at all.” She walks to the kitchen and puts on a teapot.

Cas barges in the back door and makes a beeline for Dean, his hands outstretched. “Baby,” he commands.

Dean frowns but hands Cas the baby anyway. He knows if he tries to hog her, he and Cas will have a petty fight about it later.

“Yeah, good to see you, too, Cas,” Jody says, still talking in a dejected tone, grabbing mugs out of the cabinet. “You look good, you been working out? Of course you have, look at you. Yeah, I know, I look good, too. New haircut. Thanks.”

“Hello, Jody,” Cas greets, turning toward her but keeping his eyes on the baby cradled in his arms. She looks impossibly small in his hold. “Your hair looks very nice.”

“Well, thank you, Cas,” Jody says smugly. “Would you like some tea?”

“Are you offering us tea in our own house?” Dean asks.

“You told me to make myself at home.”

Cas moves Raven up to his shoulder, spreading his long, thin fingers over her back to keep her in place with just one hand. With his other hand, he pulls out a barstool at the island and takes a seat. His tank top gets stuck between his underbelly and his lap, and Dean watches, transfixed, as Cas demurely lifts his butt off the chair and flicks his free hand against his shirt to unstick it.

“Dean? You OK?” Jody asks, amused.

“Hmm?” Dean whips his head toward her. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You looked a little lost there for a second, buddy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m very obsessed with Cas.”

Jody laughs. “It’s impossible to even make fun of you anymore. Like, if you’re going to be blissfully happy, at least act a little embarrassed about it.”

Dean walks over to Cas and puts his arm across his middle, presses his cheek firmly against the side of Cas’ chubby face and looks at Jody as he says, “No.”

“Jody, I would love a cup of tea,” Cas says, ignoring Dean. “Thank you.”

Raven fusses and nuzzles against Cas’ shoulder, so Dean reaches his arms out for her and says, “Too much muscle in your shoulder, she can’t get comfy.”

As Cas hands the baby over, he says, “Yes, because your bony body is so much better.”

“Do you guys even like each other?” Jody interrupts.

“No,” Dean and Cas answer in unison. They then look at each other and smile.

Cas asks Jody about the girls, which gets her on a long-winded rant, so Dean kisses Cas’ hair and heads out the back door with Raven. He walks across the porch and takes a seat on the porch swing and watches as Jack stands in front of a flower, says something to it, then moves onto the next flower and says something else.

“Are you talking to every flower, kid?” Dean calls.

Jack turns and tilts his head with a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come out here, Dean. Yes, I’m giving each of them longer lifespans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

It’s mesmerizing, swinging back and forth and watching Jack tend to the flowers. Raven falls asleep quickly, tucked up facedown against Dean’s chest with her head turned to the side.

“See, I’m plenty easy enough to fall asleep on,” he mutters to her.

Jody comes outside a few minutes later, tea in hand. Dean scoots over so she has room to sit next to him on the swing. She doesn’t say anything, just takes a seat and drops her head to his shoulder.

“You know we can keep the kid longer if you need us to,” he says. “Cas has baby fever, so I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“Hm. I might,” Jody considers. “Alex is really attached to her though. I am, too, but. I don’t know. It’s different for me.”

“You never thought about having a baby again in your life, did you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Cas walks out next and stops right outside the door, staring straight ahead at Jack. Cas has both his wrists bent against his hips, hands palm out, straight-back posture making his gut look more pronounced than it already is.

“Hey, Jody,” Dean starts, his eyes on Cas.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Cas is different? I mean, different than how he was as an angel.”

Jody snorts. “Um. That Cas looks like he would eat angel Cas for breakfast.”

“No, I don’t mean—” Now Dean is laughing, too. “Obviously he looks different. I mean, like, the way he’s standing right now. Don’t you think it looks a little…you know…”

“Gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yeah, but only slightly gayer than he used to act.”

Dean balks at that. “What? Really?”

“Honey, I knew Cas was gay the second time I met him. Sure, he’s definitely more comfortable and open and maybe a little more, uh, effeminate now, but he’s always been pretty clearly gay. No offense, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Hm. Well, I’m paying attention now. Very close attention.” He surreptitiously licks his lips.

After a pause, Jody asks, “How did you live so many years of your life unaware of how horny you are for him?”

Dean puffs out a breath. “Shit, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Like, I have a sleeping baby on me right now—one of my favorite things in the world—and yet it’s taking all of my willpower to keep sitting here with you instead of going to put my stupid hands all over him.”

Cas turns toward them then, offering a close-mouthed smile and a delicate wave of his hand, totally oblivious. “Jack is talking to the flowers,” he says loudly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says back, less loudly so as not to wake the baby. “Powerful as God, and he’s here talking to our fucking plants.”

Cas furrows his brow. “What did I say about cursing?”

Dean rolls his eyes.

They all hang out outside until Raven wakes up and cries for food, so Dean takes her inside and paces around the kitchen while he gives her a bottle. Cas walks through on his way to the bathroom, and Dean stops him with a, “Hey. C’mere.”

“What?” Cas asks, smiling as he closes the distance between them.

Dean leans to the side, keeping the baby steady as he kisses Cas on the lips.

Cas shakes his head when they pull apart. “You have zero impulse control.”

“See Cas, touch Cas. That’s how my brain works.”

His smile widens. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”

Later, Dean is in charge of getting Raven down for the night, Jody is taking a nap upstairs, and Jack and Cas are out picking up takeout for dinner.

The four of them eat at the kitchen table, and Dean inhales his food quickly so he can relax and sling an arm over the back of Cas’ chair while everyone else finishes. He rubs and scratches at Cas’ back while they all talk, occasionally looking over to watch Cas eat. With how muscular he is, Cas would have to have a high-calorie diet even if he didn’t also just love food, but still he eats slowly and properly as he demolishes at least twice as much as everybody else.

Dean, itching to move and sick of being in the same spot for too long, eventually leans over and nips and kisses at Cas’ neck and face, forcing him to eat even slower. Every so often, Cas turns and pecks Dean on the lips in acknowledgment of his ministrations.

“Dean, you look smaller every time I come over here,” Jody says.

“No, optical illusion. It's 'cause Cas is getting bigger,” Dean responds. He pats a loving hand against Cas’ full belly. “He can’t help that he looks extremely cute like this.”

Mouth full of food, Cas turns his head and kisses Dean’s temple in thanks.

“No, I definitely think you’ve lost weight,” Jody continues.

“Yeah, I think you have,” Cas says. “Not that you weren’t skinny before, but you’ve lost weight since you stopped drinking.”

“Mm. Yeah, I guess.” Dean puts a hand on his own stomach, noting how flat it is. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at the basic knowledge that Cas notices things about him.

After dinner, Jack asks if they can watch a movie together in the living room, which they of course oblige. Dean can count on zero hands the amount of times he and Cas have told Jack “no” when he’s at their house.

Cas privately asks Jody if she wants a glass of wine, which she turns down. Dean sees the conversation take place as he’s turning the TV on due to his inability to take his eyes off Cas for even one minute.

Jack, god help him, picks some tragic foreign language film and sits cross-legged on the couch with Jody. Cas and Dean settle in sideways on the loveseat, Cas’ back up against the armrest and one leg hanging off the side so Dean can sit between his thighs and rest back against his chest. Dean rubs his fingertips against Cas’ knee and listens to him unwrap candy after candy, occasionally offering one to Dean.

After about 15 minutes, Dean turns his head and cocks an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas looks back at him, confused, as he puts another candy in his mouth. “What?” he whispers.

“You’ve had, like, 20 of those.”

Cas’ face changes into gay bitchiness as he unwraps another one. “Now who’s the nagging wife?”

“Can you two can it?” Jody asks at a regular volume. “I’m trying to hear what these sad French people are saying.”

Dean ignores her and whispers to Cas, “I don’t give a shit about you stuffing your face, babe, I just wish your hands were more Dean-focused.”

“Oh. Of course, Dean.” Cas tosses a wrapper aside and puts his arms around Dean’s torso, squeezing him firmly back against him.

“Mm, that’s better.” Dean snuggles down and bends his arm up to feel Cas’ bicep.

Jody shushes them again.

Cas presses a chocolatey kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw and moves one hand across his waist, teasing with the waistband of his jeans. Dean grabs his hand, stopping him.

“Not in front of the kid, dude,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not doing anything,” Cas says innocently, his lips still on Dean’s skin.

Jack pauses the movie and looks over at them with a smile. In a sweet, polite tone, he asks, “I don’t mean to be rude, but can you guys please shut the fuck up?”

Cas nudges his head against Dean’s in fake annoyance. “What did I tell you? What did I fucking tell you, Dean?”

Dean can’t stop laughing. “Yes, Jack, we’ll shut the fuck up.”

With nobody to talk to and with Cas carding his perfect fingers through his hair, Dean falls asleep within 10 minutes. He half-wakes up a little while later and finds himself curled up on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest, using his big boyfriend as a bed, his big arms a blanket, big pecs a pillow. Cas’ chest vibrates beneath his ear as he whispers something to Jody, but Dean doesn’t hear it. He balls his hand into a fist and nuzzles his face against Cas’ shirt like a baby and falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it’s because Cas is trying to carefully lift him up and take him to bed. He wraps both arms around Cas’ neck and his legs around his waist and hangs on tight as Cas stands, only one of his muscular arms wrapped around Dean’s butt to hold him in place.

“Wow, he really has you whipped,” Jody whispers to Cas.

Cas responds completely seriously, “Why else would I exercise so much if not for this?”

“G’night, Jody,” Dean mutters against Cas’ neck.

“Night, little baby Dean.”

Dean smiles, his eyes still closed. “I like that.”

Jody sighs. “Seriously. Impossible to make fun of him.”

Cas starts walking toward their room as he says, “Dean is an all or nothing person. So many years with so much shame, now he has absolutely none.”

“Hmm. Yeah,” Jody replies. “Night, Cas.”

Dean is fully awake by the time Cas lays him gently down on the bed. He gets up immediately, changes into pajamas and goes to the master bath to brush his teeth. Cas joins him at the sink, wearing just boxer briefs and one of Dean’s shirts. It barely covers his belly button.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable in that,” Dean mumbles with a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. “I don’t get why you’re still wearing my shirts to bed. I told you, you stretch them out and then I can’t wear them.”

Cas spits his own toothpaste into the sink and looks up at Dean through the mirror as he wipes his mouth. “Until the sleeves cut off circulation in my arms, I will keep wearing your shirts to bed.”

Dean pulls at the hem of one of the sleeves, pointing out where Cas snipped it with scissors. “Cheater.”

Once they’re in bed, Dean presses up against Cas’ side, throws one leg over him, buries his face in the crook of his neck, squeezes his butt.

“Finally,” Dean says against his skin. “I’ve been dying to touch you all day.”

Cas smiles and wraps an arm around Dean’s back, shoving his hand down his pants to grab his ass. “Yes, and you showed remarkable restraint by not touching me at all today.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean.”

Cas hums, thinking. “You don’t like having your attention divided. If you can’t focus fully on me, it feels like you’re being deprived of something.”

“Yeah.” Dean rolls completely on top of Cas and kisses the pocket of fat under his chin. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. It’s not like I’m, like, completely obsessed with you or something crazy like that.”

Cas smiles into a kiss, putting his hand to the side of Dean’s face to pull him down to his lips. Dean groans in the back of his throat and rolls his hips.

“Do you want to have sex?” Cas asks between their mouths, like he almost always does, because he has a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about sex and is perfectly content with any amount of physical contact with Dean, no matter how little. So he leaves it up to Dean: a person who needs to touch Cas so badly all the time that he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

“No, not with us on baby duty,” Dean says. “Let’s just make out until I fall asleep.”

“Mm, that’s exactly what I fell from grace for.”

Dean laughs and pinches his shoulder, kisses the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you knew me when you fell. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Cas’ face softens. He rubs the pad of his thumb slowly across Dean’s cheek. “I did. I was willing to give up everything without ever even knowing what your lips feel like against mine. So, excuse me for thinking every second with you now is just icing on the cake.”

Dean blinks. “You’re getting better at food metaphors now that you eat so much.”

Cas allows him to trivialize the moment. He just simply smiles up at him as he wipes a tear from Dean’s face.

So Dean closes his eyes and kisses him, slowly, until he falls asleep.

-----

Dean wakes up to the sound of Raven crying over the baby monitor. She only cried once during the night, when she shapeshifted into a fat pale baby with brown eyes and thin hair and needed a bottle and a change before going back to sleep. Now it’s morning, and Dean blinks awake to the sunlight streaming onto his face. He’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around a pillow under his head, his skin unreasonably warm.

He shifts and feels Cas’ heavy arm draped across his back, his chubby hip squished against his side. Dean shuffles and turns, picking Cas’ arm up and kissing his hand before setting it on the bed and standing up.

Cas is also facedown on the bed, but instead of getting up, he burrows deeper and mumbles sleepily, “Start the coffee, please.”

Dean pinches a sliver of his love handle and leans down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll bring you a cup. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Cas snores softly in response.

It’s early. The house is dimly lit and quiet, and Dean takes his time changing and feeding Raven. When she’s done with her bottle, he puts her on his hip and carries her out to the back porch to listen to the birds. His phone rings.

“Yeah?” Dean answers.

“Hey,” Sam says. “So, uh.”

“Spit it out, Sam.”

“You know our new rule?”

“Not monsters until they act monstrous,” Dean says, his heart racing. “What happened?”

“Nothing too bad. It’s just that, uh, we think this pack of werewolves may have abandoned their, uh, young.”

“How old? How many?” Dean asks quickly.

“Twins. They’re small, Dean. Six months at most.”

Dean looks at Raven then at the garden in front of him. He thinks about Cas, about how wonderful of a father he is, about what he said yesterday. Then he says, “Well. Bring ‘em here if there’s no other option. We got the space.”

#destiel #chubby cas #15x18 #destiel fic #tf #my fics #my canon fics #i know i've changed some characterizations here but uh that's kinda the point of the fic #to demonstrate the changes in dean and cas were they to live their gay life together without shame!#anyway this is maybe my favorite thing i've ever written so um #please enjoy or i'll die

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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edie-baby · 3 years

Text

baby girls - chapter two | lando norris

Chapter Two: Perhaps

summary: What's the best way to tell the guy you like that you have a kid? Well, lying about it and making him think you're cheating isn't the best tactic, Mila's about to find that out the hard way.

word count: 1650

warnings: swearing, absentee father (the asshole ex has evolved)

last chapter

Dreaming of a perfect man while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until the dream ended, and Mila was forced back into reality by the wails of her daughter coming from the next room, the heartbreaking sound kicked Mila’s motherly instincts into high gear, her sleep-addled brain coming into a laser sharp focus within a split second.

“Hey baby girl, what’s going on?” Mila spoke, scooping Mahri into her arms with practiced ease. Mahri’s sobs quieted almost instantaneously, her tears still tracking down her face with a vengeance. Mila tried wiping the tears away, but they were replaced just as quickly.

“It’s okay, just breathe bubs. Whatever’s making you upset, we can fix. It’s all good.” Mila whispered, bouncing Mahri around the room as it had calmed her down when she was just a baby.

“I want Daddy.” Mahri cried, and Mila could have collapsed at the weight of the words the toddler had said. There was a large hole in both of their lives in the exact shape and size of Mahri’s father. Once high school sweethearts, now sworn enemies.

As much as Mila tried to block out all thoughts and feelings related to Mahri’s dad, she couldn’t blame the kid for missing a man Mila herself found missing sometimes. Matyas was Mila’s first love, her boyfriend since 8th grade, and her best friend since kindergarten. They had grown up side by side, acknowledging they had crushes on each other in their second year of high school, and having a baby together by the second last.

Matyas and Mila, contrary to most’s predictions, had stayed together through her pregnancy, and even for a while after Mahri was born. Matyas would bring all of Mila’s schoolwork home and help her work through assessments while she was pregnant, and once Mahri was born, they alternated taking days off school to babysit when members of their family couldn’t.

But something Mila had never admitted to others was that Matyas was an asshole, only kicking into higher gear once they had both finished school. Mila had an acceptance letter for university and a part time job lined up, whilst Matyas hadn’t even bothered looking, preferring to use the excuse of ‘I have a child’ to stop him from venturing into the adult world. Despite this, cooking, cleaning, and looking after the baby was Mila’s job, obviously because she was the woman, the mother.

When Mila finally decided to end her toxic relationship with her lifelong best friend, she was villainized for it. Her parents and friends blamed her for tearing her own family apart, whilst her older siblings were more than supportive, having accidentally witnessed Matyas’ less than desirable traits. Up until about six months ago, Matyas would visit regularly, taking Mahri for her swimming classes, and playing with her at the park, occasionally taking her for the day to save Mila some money on daycare.

However, much like any tale of a teenager, Matyas was single and lonely, and a barrier to being in a relationship was the fact that he had become a father at seventeen. It wasn’t exactly a big check mark next to his name, so when he had told Mila he needed to move on, find someone special, she didn’t anticipate that meant moving on from his daughter. Six months with no contact was the longest Mahri had ever gone without seeing her father, and it was the longest Mila had ever gone without seeing him. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell Mahri, who looked at Matyas as though he hung the stars, that her father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Yet as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, Mahri’s cries for her dad became all the more heartbreaking.

“I know, baby girl. But he’s on holiday, remember? He’s having lots of fun in Limbo.” Mila lied, continuing to rock her daughter in her arms, heart feeling heavy as stone at the blatant lies she was forced to tell her daughter just because her ex-boyfriend was a coward.

“I want a new daddy.” Mahri whispered, giving up on keeping her head up, preferring to let it fall heavily onto her mum’s shoulder. Mila couldn’t help but chuckle silently, the unfiltered, mumbled by age, words that her daughter came out with sometimes were what kept Mila going. With a few more bounces, Mila was sure her daughter had fallen back into a deep slumber and moved to lay her back in the small bed, covered with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

Mahri’s words echoed in Mila’s head, and as she reached for her phone to send yet another unanswered text to Matyas, Lando’s face appeared on her screen, an incoming FaceTime call that was as daunting as it was exciting. Mila looked over her shoulder, listening for any movement from Mahri before she answered the call, setting her phone against the toaster on the kitchen counter as she began brewing some coffee. It was nearing five in the morning, and knowing she would be usually waking up in an hour and a half meant it was going to be a caffeine fueled day.

“Hey baby boy.” Mila spoke a moment after the call had connected, looking down at the phone to see Lando’s tired face, snuggled up in bed with a small smile on his face. His smile only growing when he heard the fond nickname fall from Mila’s lips.

“Hi love. Why are you making coffee? It’s so late.” Lando mumbled, squinting to get a better look at what Mila was doing in front of him. His eyes devoured her figure, a large tshirt covering the tops of her thighs, and from what he could see, or lack thereof, she wasn’t wearing pants.

“Actually, it’s early. It’s a bit past five at the moment.” Mila replied, giggling at the way Lando seemed entranced by the view of her bare skin, smiling fondly when he snapped out of the trance at the sound of her joy.

“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” Lando almost shrieked, the volume of it causing Mila to startle forward, pressing incessantly at the buttons on her phone to lower the sound, checking over her shoulder paranoid that the gorgeous Brit had woken her barely sleeping baby.

“Oh, sorry. Do you have someone over?” Lando mumbled, looking crestfallen as he recognised the anxious look on Mila’s face. He couldn’t have been so naive to think that a woman as gorgeous as her wouldn’t have company on a Friday night - Saturday morning for her - and it had been about four days since they had spoken, he should have known.

“Uh, kind of. But no, but yes. Fuck.” Mila cursed, trying to find the right way to tell Lando that, yes, indeed she was worried he had woken someone up, but no, it wasn’t the kind of someone he was thinking of. She watched as Lando gulped, his mind spiralling with images of Mila with someone else, and although he had seen it in Austria, it hurt to know that their week together hadn’t meant as much to her as it did him.

“That’s alright. I’ll, um, let you get back to that, I guess. I’m sorry I called.” Lando muttered, moving to end the call when Mila panicked, the thought of hurting the man she was falling in love with had overridden her fears of him freaking out over the fact that she came with a lot more baggage than initially thought.

“I’ll call you later, baby boy, I promise. I want to talk to you, now just isn’t really a good time. I’m sorry.” Mila’s voice was trembling, she could see Lando’s want to get out of the conversation and never speak to her again, and it was the very last thing she wanted.

“It’s fine, you have your own life. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” Lando finished, his voice curt and clipped, but Mila could very clearly see the hurt hidden beneath the thin veil. She felt a piece of her heart break at the sight, knowing she was not only lying to him, but also causing him pain whilst she did so made her question whether it was really worth it hiding the little ball of energy in the next room.

Before Mila could reply, the call cut out, and she was left staring at the photo of herself, Victoria, and the twitch quartet on her lockscreen, something she had changed to remind herself of the amazing week she spent with some new lifelong friends.

Mila unlocked her phone, desperate to get away from the look she and Lando gave each other, preferring to admire her home screen, a photo from hers and Mahri’s most recent adventure to the park, Mahri laughing her ass off at Mila, who was very scaredly looking at the flock of geese running toward them while she took the photo.

Of course she had to give birth to a sadist, and if she was honest, she’d take that over the obvious masochistic trait she had been born with. The conversation with Lando replayed in her mind a million times, part of her wondering why she couldn’t just own the fuck up and tell him she had a kid. It wasn’t like she was telling him she wanted kids with him, or that he already had a kid, fuck if he didn’t want to, she probably wouldn’t introduce him to Mahri for years.

Yes, Mahri was her number one priority, but she couldn’t live her entire life for her child. She was nineteen, a gorgeous woman, and she deserved to be loved. Perhaps she could live her life with her child, and perhaps with someone else too.

But after today? She wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to even try.

#lando norris #Lando Norris fluff #Lando Norris fanfiction #Lando Norris fanfic #Lando Norris x oc #Lando Norris imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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WE BEST LOVE (Fighting Mr 2nd) DEYI and The Theme of Control and Power

You know that show that you know you can talk about forever and be obsessed with, although it seems pretty simple and not really that complicated to analyse and break down? Well, We Best Love (WBL) is precisely that in the most amazing way. I'm not shocked because I've always been a fan of the History Series, especially with this writer and how she creates her projects; it's not surprising that WBL happens to be the most comfortable show to lean into. It feels like entering a cheesy, cute, romantic novel. Yet, it still is the most angsty, passionate, drama-filled plot enough to make you want to run into the screen and comfort these comfort characters, scream at them when they're not making sense, and keep watching despite the pain when you feel like they've gone too far. And I kept quiet and watched season 1 of WBL. I was entranced and in love because it was so simple, but it felt perfect for me; it was a distraction, it made me smile, and it also made my heart quiver. I adored all the actors, and I also enjoyed how the storyline was told. It doesn't have to be so deep and full of clues, but there were facets to the characters, clear set rules in understanding their character roles, and small hints building in the last episode that all was not well and a lot was coming for our couple in the future. It broke my heart because season 1 was focused on the immaturity and naiveness of how we feel when we enter university for the first time; the excitement, but still innocence of hopefully finding someone to mesh with, and yet the dumbness/naivety that can distract us or slow us down before knowing who that person is. Season 1 was light, funny, and sweet because that's how our doe-eyed souls feel when we first enter college and get to discover who we are. Season 2, on the other hand, is focusing on maturity, actually dealing with our flaws, coping with the responsibilities and hardships of life, duty and obligation vs wants and need; the characters are older now, affected by the world's cruelties/situations and now have walls up higher than before.

And in order to help us get that vibe, even more, our couple's relationship is put through the wringer, hearts torn, misunderstandings prolonged unfairly, and everyone broken just staying in a state of pining, longing and anger, anger, at what was lost to them; the innocence/fun of falling in love, the guise of being in control, and the joy of being free and dumb in love. It isn't a surprise to see our main character, Shide and Shu Yi, see their flaws fleshed out more in the open and actually increased and exposed for us, the audience, to watch and dislike. Shu Yi's short temper becomes even more exposed as he struggles to have control over his past and feelings for Shide once they reunite, and Shide's withdrawal of emotions also becomes even more strained and put on focus as he also realises what he has lost. Both of them enter this sick twisted, and tense need for control and power that their relationship becomes intense and full of passion hidden behind the anger and resentment. So I'm going to break down the idea of Control and Power with these twos relationship, a certain theme that has been there since season 1, and why now it's something both rivals are struggling to obtain to win, especially Shuyi, who is determined this time to not be Mr 2nd when it comes to Shide again. Hence the title Fighting Mr 2nd.

Misunderstandings and Miscommunications

Let's first focus on the miscommunication/ separation at hand. This exposed so much already about how these two felt about the power they hold over the other. Let's first look at what season 1 exposed; for Shide, Shuyi has always had control over him since the moment his young self told him that he would be a companion to him whenever he was lonely. Shide has desperately loved Shuyi and did everything possible to ensure he kept Shuyi's focus on him no matter what. The way he decided to do this was to put himself in a place more powerful than Shuyi; he put himself always ahead of Shuyi, ensuring he was always number one no matter what. This was how he controlled the situation; for him, as long as Shuyi noticed him, he was happy to continue hoping for a change and also making him react. In Shide's mind, he never wanted to force/ make Shuyi fall for him because he didn't think it was possible. He just wanted to be by his side (as a 'friend') until graduation was over.This shows me already some stuff about their relationship. How Shide perceives Shuyi; one, he didn't trust in Shuyi's love as being as strong as he was. He even says it to Shuyi on the bridge when they confessed to each other. For him, Shuyi was always the 'lucky' one; the one in control, the real winner because he had him in his palm of his hand. Shuyi was the one who made him whipped, the one he chased after secretly for 8 years or more. Shuyi has always been the one with the hold over him. Immediately they got together, Shide also tells Shouyi his confusion but the happiness that Shuyi is also feeling the same towards him.

Shide can't believe the switch in Shuyi's personality and actions for him; Shuyi still tried to play of Shide's grand confessions of love in the last episode, and Shide was okay as long as Shuyi kept paying attention to him. But in my head, it showed that Shide didn't think Shuyi's love was as unconditional, as strong, as uncontrollable as his. He didn't know he had any hold over Shuyi. He thought it was his constant love and chase that won Shuyi in the end, so what happens when he thinks he pushed Shuyi away? In Shide's perspective, he's the one who slacked behind and pushed Shuyi away by disappearing for 5 years, which fair enough makes sense; Shuyi has every right to be angry at being ghosted. But Shide blames himself and thinks it's because his show of love was weakened and slowed down that it caused Shuyi to retreat and walk away easily. Because he wasn't fighting anymore for their love, he lost Shuyi's attention. Again this suggests how fickle he believes Shuyi's feelings are and how still in his head he believes he's the one with the long-lasting love/feelings.

Shide's personality is someone who likes to be in control (like Shuyi but for different ways and reasons); he's kind of had to always be; ever since his dad died, he's had to try and make it his goal to become stronger and better to take care of his mum, and to ensure they live well. This is connected to the theme of Duty and Obligation in the show. Even in Season 1, the reason he has to leave for America for a bit is to ensure his mum settles in nicely. Even after that, he's again the one responsible for ensuring whoever was sick in America was taken care of. It's because of his need to be responsible and be in control that Shuyi always feels distanced from him (mocked, misunderstood, and hurt). Shide is someone who likes to keep a calm demeanour. He likes to take things on by himself; he likes to not show when he's hurting or alone (apart from that one time as a kid where he broke down on Shuyi). In fact, it might be because Shuyi is the only one who did see him in his vulnerable state and gave him an aim to become stronger that made him cling on to his love for him and devote himself to his love for him. But in looking so in control of his emotions, Shuyi always saw Shide as someone who loved winning and making him feel like a fool. In season 1, he thought Shide did it on purpose to see him lose control and be a mess, and in season 2, he's resorted back to that thinking. Let's look at why?

No 1 for You (Shide’s pov) vs Fighting Mr 2nd (Shuyi’s pov)

Shuyi did not also understand the proper depth of Shide's feelings. I guess we should have seen it coming that he didn't fully understand how deep they were, he had heard ideas from Shide's mother, he had heard grand declarations from Shide (after he was the one to pry it out of him), but he didn't actually trust it fully. I think because he didn't fully trust both their sexualities and identities when it came to their feelings. Like I said, we should have seen it coming when he admits he doesn't want to fall for a guy, but also it's because it's Shide he's okay with being in love. However, people complained about this because in BL, we're tired of the I love you, not boys trajectory always chosen. However, it was more than that. I think because of what's embedded in people's minds at a young age (due to society), there might have also been, as a result of that, hints of internalised homophobia (IH) with Shuyi. And that's why it made sense for him to wither and assume that Shide truly would be with someone else and be married and have kids. Because of IH, Shuyi may have automatically thought it made sense that Shide would move on, get married and have kids in America (hence as he said in episode 1, he was disqualified by choice) because, in his head, he didn't understand Shide's love and devotion for him.

It also points to insecurity and fear that he might not be enough/the better option for Shide. One of his pet peeves was that he was always coming second to Shide, he was always being seen by himself as second best, and he probably also thought he had become the second-best option to Shide living a great 'fulfilled' life according to 'society' where he is married to a wife and has kids. This is why in the special episode, he also gives up easily and wishes him the best refusing to actually question why Shide would do this to him after all the stupid and grand promises he made a year ago before he left. Promises of marriage, promises of devotion, of being his family etc. Of course, this felt like Shuyi was thoroughly mocked and lowered because he had lost again to Shide by letting his heart trust him and wait for him. Now, in season 2, he's determined to not do that too. To not lose control of his heart ever again. To not fail to Shide in any way, shape or form ever again.

Shuyi; The Guise of Control

Shide is always acting on the surface like he's in control, causing Shuyi to always think he's more vulnerable and a fool, and it makes season 2 make more sense. Even if Shide says, he'll make Shuyi look at him again, how on earth is he meant to ever let that happen? He literally manipulated the situation in season 1 and got Shuyi's walls down only for him just to cheat on him, so how can Shuyi trust just his actions on the surface?

No matter how devoted Shide is looking, even at the end finally showing a hint of losing control under Shuyi's hold which Shuyi was not expecting because he thought Shide will always want to again be 'proper'. And in the past, it was Shuyi who always pushed for skinship once they started dating; Shide always again acted like he hadn't been affected; this was discussed actually in that final episode. Even if on the surface Shide looked affected, Shuyi wouldn't trust that. Because Shide is always holding back whilst Shuyi always feels like a fool, never being able to control himself around him, never being able to control his emotions or have a poker face around him. From the first episode in season 1, Shuyi has always been uncontrollable when it came to Shide, whilst Shide always came out looking cool.

Shuyi always ended up in the most vulnerable shameful state (forgetfully hurting himself in reaction to Shide's presence, being the one distracted and bothered by skinship in the last episode whilst Shide studied, or even being exposed and screaming down a bridge, his love for Shide to make Shide come out and say how he feels). Shuyi always ended up being weakened and frustrated because Shide seemed like he had everything in order. Shuyi is now adamant he's lying or that Shuyi is still the one who's more in love with him (his biggest fear). For example, the slap he gives to Shide (exposed his lack of control of emotions around Shide) and yet Shide immediately tried to control the situation, making Shuyi again look like the irrational one and the most affected one. Also, as mentioned it Shuyi (in Shuyi's head), who proceeded to force/get Shide to confess. Because Shide was too focused on controlling his environment, avoiding the situation, holding back his feelings, whilst Shuyi's emotions always get the best of him and caused him to still lose in front of Shide. Basically letting Shide get his way all the time. And by doing that, it was Shuyi who ended up waiting for a year and then being 'cheated' on, being ghosted with his heart shattered.

The Fear of Weakness and Vulnerability

Other examples are Shide going to Shuyi's house and ignoring him in his own home (again, Shuyi can't even control his environment when it comes to Shide, everything he owns feels little because Shide seems to have a hold over him in everything), and proceeding to make him the fried rice. Even as the vice president who's meant to be in control and be in charge of letting go of people (which his father is pressuring him to do, he has no choice in the matter), Shide is the CEO (a higher position) of the company and is adamant on convincing Shuyi to do no such thing. It's a big fear to Shuyi, which is why he's determined to ensure he does fire these people because if he doesn't, It means he's again coinciding underneath Shide's hold over him, over everything he has, including his heart.

The act of making fried rice in Shuyi's house as if nothing is going on, Shide ignoring his tantrums and outbursts does again what Shuyi hates, makes him feel stupid, weak and vulnerable. It makes him feel like he's losing again to Shide. This is why I think he really has no other option in his mind to win but to use emotions and feelings (what he can't control) as a weapon to capture Shide. By making Shide fall for him emotionally and then being the one to break his heart, that's how Shuyi thinks he'll finally be able to break down Shide's calm, façade that he's always in control, that's how he stops being Mr Second. Obviously, it's a stupid idea because Shuyi literally becomes weakened just by being in Shide's presence. To be anywhere intimate with him, he will only resort to his own emotions being, even more, harder to handle even if he tries to play it off as just attraction.

And for both of them, control is even harder physically with emotions because they've been 'starved' of each other's presence for 5 years, of each other's touch and connection. As shown in episode 1 of FMS, they're both in a state of pining, longing and waiting for one of them to give in. For 5 years, Shuyi was secretly fighting against the truth that he had been waiting for Shide to return even when he tried to focus all his energy and heart into hate and bitterness (to distract him from the pain of waiting). Shuyi never wanted to give up on hope, never wanted to let go of Shide, because it's out of his control to forget or move on. He couldn't do that even if he tried. This is why he also tries again to use a power play with a fake girlfriend that he couldn't remember the name for. Every single sentence he said was how he compared himself to the girl he thought Shide cheated on him with. He was saying it to hurt Shide, but in the end, he was still exposing his own hurt and insecurity about why he thought Shide left him.

Shide; Control Vs Sacrifice

Meanwhile, the audience all know that, on the other hand, Shide is the one who has no control over the matter. No matter what he seems like on the surface/ in front of Shuyi, Shide is completely tired, weak and frustrated once he sees Shuyi again. It's frustrating because the only time he shows his emotions is once Shuyi isn't looking; he cries only after Shuyi has left, always holding his feelings and only letting it out when he's by himself. Although to Shuyi, it seems he's in control, being the CEO, being the one who disappeared for 5 years, being the one who is successful and influential, Shuyi couldn't be more opposite in his thoughts. Shide has no control over the CEO position; it's not a job he chose for himself, it's not what he wanted to do, he did it because of again his responsibility to his mother and family. Shide isn't the one who chose to disappear for 5 years in America; he again had no control over the situation because someone else was ill, and he had to be the one to help his family again become stable. And lastly, Shide isn't successful and as influential as he's sold his company to Shuyi's father, so he actually isn't in control of his position, of his life essentially. What Shuyi sees as control is unfortunate because it's actually Shide's sacrifice; he's had to lose what he actually wants to be in that position. All he's ever wanted is Shuyi. Ironic no?

Even in Season 1, when he seemed to be the one controlling the situation, he wasn't; he always did everything to get Shuyi, and for 8 years him being 'in control/winner' as Shuyi puts it wasn't him winning because he always didn't get Shuyi's heart before he confessed. And that's what's so heartbreaking about Shuyi's misunderstanding of Shide; when he first sees Shide in the past in his memories, he doesn't know the moment Shide fell for him; he just sees Shide winning over him, he doesn't even notice the first person who had control over the other was him, because he already took Shide's heart, trust and devotion. This is why Shide told him he was the lucky one; he was the one who was winning, who was always in control. Not Shide.

Love and It’s Hold and Power

And again, although Shide is the one he thinks he's second-best to. Shuyi has a lot of power over everyone else since he was young. He's been a spoilt, rich boy who's had control over his friends (in a positive way like they felt they had to watch him and babysit him), he's had control due to his father's power, and he's had control now over Shide just due to again his father's job and his heritage. And I think that's why he can't stand the fact that no matter what he does when he's with Shide, he loses all of that power; he's reduced to wanting to do something for someone, like in season 1, washing the dishes, being humble, exposing his feelings to Shide so loudly and vulnerably. Shide is the only person who makes him want to do all that, and he hates it. It's why when the employees in episode 1 call him again Shide's girlfriend (even though literally Shide bending down to tie his laces is an act of losing control and him being in control of him), it bothers him because it makes him look weak. He's the one flustered by the actions; his heart is shaken by the movement. What he sees about Shide vs what's genuinely being shown/exposed is so opposite, so of course, they're more prone to misunderstandings because they've always both seen the situation very differently.

So WBL has always been using this theme of Control vs Power with Shide and Shuyi. And how, because of love, both of them feel this lack of control over each other. Mostly from season 1, when Shide gets closer to Shuyi using the idea of rivalry to see who can win over each other, even though he gives in always to Shuyi on purpose. Shuyi's misunderstanding has always been an issue since episode 1, since even when Shide kissed him in the pool. This time around in season 2, we get to deal with the actual seriousness/reciprocation of what that misunderstanding and fear of lack of control can do to them. And how others can manipulate that (Shuyi's father probably). Either way, these twos relationship has become angst central because Shuyi really is fighting Mr second, he's determined this time not to lose to Shide no matter what and he's finally using like the last way he can possibly gain control over Shide. His body. The most vulnerable part of a person is exposed when they sleep with someone else; by getting Shide to even want to give in to him as he requested, he can expose everything about Shide, his weakness, his heart, his truths. Hence, it makes sense the relationship is using attraction and chemistry as a powerful tool for the storyline. Shuyi isn't going to be able to even go through with anything because he's just as vulnerable and weak with Shide as Shide is with him.

I love angst, and I love power plays and fight for control in rivals to lovers stories. I love misunderstandings and requited, but they don't know the trope. I just really enjoy WBL, and I'm so excited to see what happens next. Looks like Shide is finally going to lose that façade he has on the surface once he breaks down under the influence of alcohol; probably, poor boy has been suffering so much. And I think both of them will soon need to gain control over their situation together so they can defeat the obstacles that come in the form of Shuyi's father, society, company issues etc. So yeh, I'm loving this, and it's such a breath of fresh air. Friday is too far away, sigh.

#we best love #wbl #wbl: fighting mr. 2nd #we best love: fighting mr. 2nd #fighting mr.2nd #bl series #bl drama #cwg #march #gao shi de #zhou shu yi

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your-world-with-nct · 3 years

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— @doyoungcore ty for the inspiration for this post joyce 🥺 consider this a very belated bday present hehe (also apologies for the late post, i hope this longer blurb makes up for it 🙈)

💌 • 4:56pm

browsing the clothing racks for items that caught your eye, you sighed as you checked the price tag of the pair of jeans you’d been considering getting for a while, groaning at the fact that it hadn’t gone on sale yet.

you dragged your feet to the next aisle, looking down at your worn-out sneakers and heading for the shoe section instead, immediately spotting some reasonably-priced stylish boots along with your favourite shoe brand’s name splashed above the display.

“hey, excuse me, hi, do you have a minute?” you would be lying if you said that the man standing in front of you panting and swiping at his forehead wasn’t the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on, your throat drying up at his unbelievable looks.

“oh, me? yeah, i have a minute, are you okay?” you questioned why this man who could pass off as a model was acting as desperate as those people in the town centre who passed out flyers that nobody ever paid attention too, pausing to take in his breathtaking physique.

“i’m so sorry to bother you, but my name is doyoung, and my ex is here with her new boyfriend. i was wondering if you could just pose as my partner for a bit, y’know, until she’s gone,” stranger!doyoung nervously smiled at you, his eyes flitting all over as, you assumed, he was searching for his ex, “if i’m interrupting your shopping, i-i’ll go but, i, i just don’t wanna look pathetic in front of her.”

the request shocked you, but there was a small voice in your head that wanted to go along with it. not only because you felt sorry for doyoung and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself in front of his ex, but also the fact this gorgeous boy thought that you were believable enough to be, well, in his league and dating him, inflated your ego and you had to repay him for doing wonders with your confidence.

“no, no, that’s fine, doyoung! i’m y/n, by the way, and don’t worry, you’re not really interrupting anything,” you grinned at him, trying not to scream when an adorable gummy smile appeared on his face, “just do what you need to do, i’ll go with it.”

contrary to your statement, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face when doyoung went straight for your hand and interlocked your fingers, leading you to those shoes you’d been eyeing, while gazing at you with his twilight orbs, “how about those, babe? i remember you saying you needed more shoes to go with those pants you bought last week.”

considering how jittery doyoung was when he approached you, you were beyond amazed by how easily he transformed into an endearing ‘boyfriend’, helping you reach shoes on higher shelves and asking employees for your size, all whilst making light-hearted conversation with you and calling you the cutest nicknames.

within a few minutes, you were immersed in your role, completely embracing doyoung’s kindness, and even forgetting that it was all an act at times, especially when he tidied away the shoes you didn’t want and wordlessly handed your sneakers back to you, as if it was his silent way of showing affection.

except… it wasn’t; he was just trying to save himself from embarrassment and it meant absolutely nothing to him, whilst, you, on the other hand, basked in the undeserved attention he gave you. the feeling of being cared for was so unfamiliar to you that the slightest acts of service from a handsome stranger had you melting.

it had been almost ten minutes since you were parading around as doyoung’s lover, yet you still hadn’t seen his dreaded ex nor her new boyfriend. seeing as he was currently too focused on picking out his own shoes, you examined the adjacent aisles, looking in all directions just to find that there was quite literally no other couple in sight. either his ex had already left the store, or doyoung was the smoothest man you had ever met.

the new discovery had your brain running at a hundred miles per hour, eventually deciding to keep playing along with doyoung’s little game, you know, have a little fun before you went back to being single and lonely.

“hey, doie, not to alarm you, but i see a couple on their way over here,” you whispered in his ear, coming up behind him as he was returning a shoe box to its rightful place on the shelf, “is that your ex over there?”

doyoung didn’t know if it was your statement or the close proximity that had his heart racing, clearing his throat in an attempt to soothe his erratic pulse, “oh, is it? i-i don’t wanna risk checking though, let’s just–”

taking a page out of the romcom protagonist book, you smirked as you stepped closer to the blushing boy, forcing him to take a step backward against a wall of branded trainers, cocking your eyebrow when you noticed the coral shade spreading across his face, “let’s just stay like this for a bit, i’m sure she’ll hate seeing her ex like this with someone else, huh?”

the confidence oozing out of you had doyoung in mental shambles - when he tried the elaborate pick-up ploy on an unsuspecting you, he didn’t think it would go this well, and now he felt obliged to tell you the truth, although that would mean he was risking rejection and, judging from what he learned about your personality in the past fifteen minutes, possibly an emotional response.

however, it occurred to him that, if he played his cards right, he could walk away today with your number, and a date at the cafè his best friend owned, all he had to do was not to react, which was proving a difficult task right now as he felt your hand on his waist and your breath ghosting on his collarbone.

“okay, okay, fine, there is no ex!” doyoung blurted out, not being able to last any longer with your intense gaze on him, “i-i made it up as an excuse to try and talk to you because, well…”

“because what?” you sat down on one of the small sofas to give doyoung some space, scattered with abandoned shoes that had no pair.

your nonchalant reaction had him furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, brushing off his bewilderment to answer your question, “i just, i thought you were really pretty and i wanted to talk to you. how was i supposed to know you would go along with, all that, so quickly and easily?”

doyoung couldn’t explain the relief he felt when you began giggling, as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“it was easy enough to pretend, when you’re probably the most likeable person i’ve ever met,” you chuckled, the shyness from before evaporating the longer you stared at doyoung’s beauty, “since you basically tricked me into hanging out with you, how about we actually go do something? y’know, where you don’t have lie to me about what we’re doing?”

“wait, really?” doyoung’s eyes widened, surprised that you still wanted anything to do with him.

“yes, now, let me pay for these and we can head to your friend’s cafè down the road. unless that was a lie too?” you both broke out into wide grins, as you took his hand and led him to the counter, whilst he balanced your purchases in his arms.

you couldn’t explain where that courage cane from, nor why a mere twenty minutes with a stranger made you feel more content than ever; but meeting doyoung was like listening to a song for the first time and immediately knowing it would be your favourite.

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criminalmutantsins · 3 years

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Top 10 Favorite Young Justice Characters

10. Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle

Starting off the list is Blue Beetle. Young Justice introduced me to him, and I was hooked. He’s probably the most mellow and calming voice. His arc and relationship with Bart (friendship or not) were my favorite aspects of S2. They bounced off each other in every scene. I was very disappointed when Jaime and Bart were sidelined so much, and hope S4 changes this (particularly with Bart).

Jaime in the number 10 spot since he doesn’t really have much of a memorable personality. Still love him to bits though.

9. Will Harper/Red Arrow

Funny enough, I did not like Will. He was an asshole in S1; S2 kind of changed my mind about him but not enough since he didn’t appear as much. What really changed my mind was the episode “Private Security” (S3 Ep.4). I started looking back into Will’s storylines and, I have to admit, his is probably one of the best character development.

The first season had him unwillingly living a lie and betraying the people he cared for. In season 2 he was so consumed into finding the original Roy for five years, not even caring or focusing about his own life. I felt really bad for Will because he was probably going through an identity crisis and thought he couldn’t live his life without finding Arsenal. Probably felt guilty.

Seeing him living his own life and being happy with his daughter was so heartwarming. I smiled every time Will appeared in the latest season (totally ignoring the Will x Artemis fiasco), especially with Lian. I’m very proud of him.

I feel bad for putting him so low, yet I adore the next characters more.

8. Garfield Logan/Beast Boy

I have been a massive Beast Boy fan since Teen Titans so you probably can imagine how excited to see him. His origin story was unique and his brother-sister bond with M’gann was very sweet. It was pretty weird seeing how much younger Gar was than Dick, but I got used to it. I was bummed that Gar wasn’t in S2 as much; however, S3 truly made up for it.

After watching Beast Boy being a great leader in S5 of Teen Titans, I wanted a leader-like and more mature version of him. Young Justice truly delivered with Gar being the leader of the Outsiders. It’s nice to see him treated with respect rather than as a joke because that was my biggest gripe with Teen Titans. Though it was weird seeing him not crack a joke at all.

Gar’s story with his mom was heartbreaking to see. I literally cried seeing his reaction to revisiting his trauma in S2 and S3; I just wanted to hug and tell him how awesome he is. My only complaint with Gar in S3 was that the Outsiders weren’t established until near the end of the season.

His voice actor being Greg Cipes also gives him extra points (He’s a chill guy and radiates BB energy).

7. Dick Grayson/Nightwing/ Robin I

Sorry to all the hardcore Nightwing fans.

I love Dick (don’t get any ideas), but he doesn’t get enough development in the spotlight. One of the things I really wanted to see from him is his growth as a main leader, and his journey to becoming Nightwing. I was really bummed when these happened between the first two seasons.

To be honest, I don’t have as much to say about him other than straightforward qualities I enjoy about him.

1.His Voice (it’s so soothing)

2.His Personality (very charismatic)

3.Very Handsome (Probably in the top 3 my most handsome YJ Men list)

I put him higher than the others since he made a lot of contribution to the story and his new words (gotta love that aster!)

6. Megan Morse/M’gann M’orzz/Miss Martian

If I made this list during S1, M’gann would have probably been in my top 3 (maybe even No. 1), but S2 didn’t give her any brownie points.

I really liked S1 Miss Martian because of her kind heart, awkward girl next door personality. Her trouble fitting in the beginning reminded me of when I was going through a time in high school; seeing her having trouble as well helped me feel not so lonely. M’gann powers were (still are) my favorite since I am a big fan of mind-like powers. I would feel so powerful. Watching her identity crisis(?) arc was great too. I’ve had trouble feeling comfortable in my own skin as well as my social anxiety (I’m a mess) and I could understand how scared Megan was of her friends’ thoughts on her true form.

Oh boy. Season 2 basically ruined her. Learning what she would do to enemies was terrifying to see and left me wondering what happened to Miss Martian that made her step this far. What she almost did to Superboy was almost unforgivable. You do not try to manipulate with your boyfriend’s mind when you guys have an argument! Shame on you M’gann. If Superboy hadn’t forgiven you then I wouldn’t have either.

Good thing S3 somewhat redeemed her. Her kind heart was noticeable again and she refused to do that mind trick again (thank god). Very excited for the Superboy and Miss Martian wedding! Please creators, I beg of you to not skip over it. I want to cry my eyes out in happiness!

5. Kaldur’ahm/Aquaman/Aqualad

Now we’re in the top 5 with Aqualad (*ahem* Aquaman) starting it off.

Creating Kaldur was the best decision the creators ever did. I love him with all my heart!

He added diversity to the original team and was a great leader. S1 was not his breakout season, though the second season definitely was.

Kladur played the villain so well that he deserves an automatic Oscar. I never doubted that he was with the heroes, but he didn’t disappoint. My favorite part about Aqualad’s performance was when he rose from the ocean slowly like a cliché villain (he made it work), and the line he said right after he “killed” Artemis; it sent me chills. Love it!

Pretty disappointed that he didn’t appear as much in S3. Very happy that he is a part of the LGBTQ+ community and is in a happy relationship. I’m a part of the community and loved that there was finally some representation in one of my favorite shows. Even so, I have to criticize how rushed and sidelined it was. I hope Kaldur and Wyynde’s relationship gets development.

4. Kon-El/Conner Kent/Superboy

Like Will, I did not like Superboy at first. Mainly angry and volatile characters were never really my cup of tea. I do understand why he was upset and felt bad for him; I just handle anger the direct opposite as him. My love for Conner started growing around the end of S1. He was very sweet towards Miss Martian (bless him for not caring about her appearance) and his anger was in control.

Season 2 pretty much switched my opinions on him and M’gann. It was awful what M’gann almost did to him. That scene with him being so sad that what she did ruined that special bond they had almost made me cry. I wanted to give him a hug. He grew so much too since I don’t think he would have handled the whole M’gann drama as well in S1. A lot of furniture would’ve been broken.

I gotta admit something. I almost put Conner near the bottom (maybe no. 7). A comment in a poll in Amino changed my mind. I wrote a poll asking other fans who did they prefer SB or MM. At that point I said SB, though I didn’t think much of it. Someone (specifically yjfangirl) responded “Superboy has the best development in the show.” This had me thinking about how far SB has gone. In the beginning, Conner was an angry guy who felt alone and rejected by the person who he was meant to emulate. Now he is happier and living for himself rather than to be the next Superman. He’s getting married people! A little detail I noticed when rewatching S3 was Superboy mentioning to new characters that they weren’t obligated to be a hero because of their abilities. I adored this! The main reason why Superboy was created to be Superman if the original ever died, and another one of Luthor’s puppets. But he strayed from that pressuring path and is doing his own thing. Conner doesn’t want other people to feel like he did. What an absolute pure soul.

Also, yjfangirl, first I want to say Hi (*waves*)! Then say thanks for writing that comment. It made me really think about the bigger picture with SB and my love for him as grown exponentially. You probably didn’t mean to do that, but I still want to thank you. 😊

3.Wally West/Kid Flash

We’re in the elites now.

I don’t know how to explain it, I just love Wally. He makes me laugh, and his character growth was great. At first, Wally was this cocky flirt who didn’t take the hero work as seriously. That changed in “Cold-hearted,” one of my favorite episodes in the series. This was when I really started seeing more of Wally than being this dumb flirt. It was great seeing him actually caring about helping people since I believed for a long time that he wanted to be a superhero to just have powers rather than actually protect others. The regret in his eyes when he thought his impulsive behavior killed Perdita helped me see who he really was- this somewhat arrogant speedster who had a kind heart. Episodes that can make me change my perspective on characters are truly special.

I was very upset that he wasn’t in S2 a lot. I understand why since he gave up the life, but I was still bummed. Seeing him being so loving and protective towards Artemis was amazing. Spitfire is my favorite ship and I will not give up on them. All I want is a happy ending! The penultimate episode of S3 was a hint that it will happen. Watching the S2 finale was heartbreaking, I cried watching him disappear, his love for Artemis being the last things he said. Artemis’ reaction did not(I just wanted to hug her).

I have more to say, though I’m leaving it for another post. 😉

2.Bart Allen/Kid Flash II/Impulse

Picking between Bart and Wally for second place was tough. Took me a while to decide; I’ll talk about it later on.

The moment Bart made his appearance, I absolutely adored him. He is amazing and I live for his hyper, fun attitude. His arc and relationship with Jaime were my favorite aspects of S2. What can I say, their chemistry is great to see.

That scene when he was meeting the Flash family was so adorable. His excitement was infectious and spoiling his dad and aunt’s births was hilarious! I watch it occasionally whenever I need a good laugh or reason to smile.

Unlike most time travelers- at least the ones I’ve seen- Bart was very involved with what was going on and befriended his biggest enemy- evil and weirdly huge future Blue Beetle. He was pretty careful about disclosing very important information and took things very seriously. You never know if disclosing everything was the thing that brought the world to chaos.

What I found interesting was his choice on how to interact with everyone. He seemed pretty gloomy in the future, but decided to portray this cheerful, devil-may-care attitude to be more likable. I understood (still kind of do). I had terrible mental health issues and I pretended to be happy in front of loved ones because I thought they wouldn’t care about me anymore. Bart got some brownie points for that.

I was dissatisfied when his role was greatly reduced. I wanted the creators to go further with Bart by revealing his past and how it affected him. He was pretty much comedy relief. You couldn’t imagine how disappointed I was, especially with it involving my second favorite character. Season 4 better change that.

I know that you shouldn’t assume a character’s sexuality, yet I really hope Bart is gay. There needs to be more clear representation and Bart can be one of them. I’m also a Bluepulse and Bartuado shipper (fine with either one as long as Bart’s bond with each of them stays strong).

Anyway, I mentioned that I would explain why I chose Bart for 2nd place over Wally. It mostly stems from wishful thinking. I really want S4 to have Bart as a main character since I believe the future will be strong plot point in the season. Development could surely happen such as Bart opening up more about what he went through. Let all those feelings go.

I’m going to write an article on my hopes for S4 when a release date is announced. Bart and Wally will most definitely be talked about.

…..

We are finally near the end!

And my No. 1 favorite character is…

Drumroll please!

…

1.Artemis Crock/Tigress/Artemis

That’s right people!

Artemis Crock, original member of the Team and daughter of villains!

She is such an inspiration to anyone who wants to go their own past without their parents’ support.

It’s hard to describe how much I love Artemis. She’s brave, strong-willed, and a kind person. It’s crazy how great of a person she is after all the terrible things that happened to her. I look up to her because I don’t have a healthy relationship with my parents (verbal and mental abuse) and there are times I don’t feel strong enough to stand on my own. I want to carry the amount of strength Artemis has as my own.

After all that happened in S2, it was amazing to see Artemis come back to the team and train the new generation. It must have been hard to walk away from a safe, comfortable life for a chaotic, dangerous life. I admire that in everyone, but I hold more respect for Artemis since “the life” “killed” Wally. I wanted to hug her so bad.

She’s also one of the kindest people in the show, the events in S3 being the best example. When Zatanna was crying about her dad, Artemis was there to comfort her. It was so sweet! Roy and her also took in Halo and Terra like they were a part of the family; the archer treated them like the best big sister. That rainstorm scene was heartwarming to the core.

Wouldn’t Artemis be an amazing mother? Lian and her have a strong bond like a mother and daughter; I loved it, and Lian is in good hands with Roy and Artemis. Though Jade deserves a chance to be a mother. Artemis also seemed to enjoy taking care of those kids in that S1 episode. Wally too. You guys know what I’m guys insinuating. 😉

Get ready for some fanfics on that someday.

My favorite Artemis-centered episode was the second to last episode of S3. I was waiting for this episode centering around Artemis missing Wally and learning to move on. It was great yet heartbreaking. Nothing bad happened. That Will and Artemis kiss never happened. Everyone makes a mistake. No matter how terrible it was.

Anyway, seeing Artemis and Wally living their lives and having a baby gave me life, even if it was fake. It was a vision of the future. I will believe this until there is confirmation that Wally will not come back.

Did anyone else cry when Artemis was so desperate to, but Wally wouldn’t let that happen (the real Wally would do that)? They are a great example of a healthy relationship with all the love and support they have for each other. I want that.

152 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (4/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

Found on Ao3: Beginning | Current

Found on Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

-/-

Emma has this thing about the summer tourists in Martha’s Vineyard. There are several types, but they can be categorized into two main groups: the annuals versus the one-timers.

It’s pretty self-explanatory. The annuals come back every year. They usually have a family home on the island or in Cape Cod or Falmouth, and they come back year after year to do the same things – from taking out the same boats to eating at the same restaurants. Then there are the one-timers. They get an opportunity to come and spend a week or two taking pictures, eating food, spending time by the ocean, going on hikes, and then they never, ever come back. They’ve seen enough.

The annuals pay for Emma’s life. The one-timers, though, keep her entertained.

If she never has to see them again, there are no consequences, no attached strings. It’s the perfect distraction, especially in the past few years, and she will not be ashamed of the choices she makes.

Not at all.

Except, right now, she’s seriously questioning her choices because sometimes Emma can be pretty damn stupid.

But then Killian’s hand slips down the back of her thigh, fingertips pressing into her skin, kneading it in the places that bring her pleasure, and she forgets how stupid this is and remembers how good it feels. His voice is deep with his teasing, his mouth soft, and when he uses his knee to nudge hers to the side, Emma complies and arches her back as he slowly guides himself into her. Her heartbeat speeds up, sweat already forming at the nape of her neck that not even the breeze from the open window can fix, and she continues to adjust her hips as Killian finds his rhythm.

It’s a damn good rhythm, one that only takes a little instruction on her part, before he’s leaning over her, sucking the skin at her neck, and building her toward a higher and higher pleasure as he whispers filth into her skin.

And for the minutes that it takes, ones that seem to fly and drag on all at once, Emma forgets how monumentally stupid she’s being by sleeping with him. It was a moment of weakness, one where she was lonely and he was there with his stupidly handsome features and charming stories, and it seemed like the obvious thing to do.

Even though she really did simply intend to invite him in for coffee, but how many people truly believe that offer to be taken at face value?

Emma thinks he’s an obnoxious flirt, but at least it’s nice to know he can back his words up with actions.

Emma scratches her fingers down his back until she’s tightening them around the muscles in his arms. He’s fitter than she imagined, which is always a bonus, and his muscles twitch as he continues to move in her, over her, until his hand reaches between them and Emma finds the subtle bliss she doesn’t often find from arrangements like this.

So, she’s stupid, but at least she’s satisfied.

Killian hovers over her as his thrusts become more erratic, as he finds his own release, his forehead pressed into hers, and then he’s rolling over, taking a breather next to her, before getting up to dispose of the condom and put his briefs back on. Emma does the same, using the bathroom to pee and wash her face, before putting on a t-shirt and pair of underwear.

“So, that was,” Killian begins when she comes back from the bathroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, body still on near full display as he presses his hands back.

“You’re only staying here this summer, right?” Emma interrupts.

He raises one brow, then the next. “Aye. I don’t imagine I’ll return next year. My life should be…less complicated then.”

Okay, good. Maybe she’s not so stupid after all.

Because he may be friends with Ariel and Eric, which isn’t the clean break she’s looking for, but it’s clean enough.

She wonders how his life could be complicated. She doesn’t know much about him, but she knows enough. He’s rich, can take months off from work to vacation, and there’s little chance he actually knows what complicated is.

“Why do you ask?” he continues, scratching his neck.

Emma shrugs. “Because this wasn’t…this was casual. I’m not into having a relationship, especially with someone who has an expiration date.”

“Trust me, love,” he laughs, “neither am I. I do fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me, but I know what this was. I’m not under any impressions otherwise.”

Emma nods and grabs a pair of sleep shorts from one of her drawers. “Well, good. That’s good.”

This is always the awkward part. Do they stay or do they go? Emma votes go, but she’s unsure how to ask without coming off as a total bitch.

Especially since this is a man who already knows her more than he should.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “it is good.” He leans down and picks up his jeans, standing to slide them on. Why the hell are his pants that tight. “But I have the feeling you’re waiting on me to leave, so I can do that for you.”

“Oh, I - ”

“Perceptive, Swan.” He points to his head. “I told you I’m actually quite perceptive, and I meant it. Have a good night, love. I’m sure I’ll see you around the island.”

He finishes getting dressed as Emma stands in the corner and crosses her arms, watching him. Not five minutes ago she was watching him move in a completely different way, and the memories nearly tempt her to ask him to stay.

She’s stupid, but she’s not that stupid.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs, “I’ll see you around.”

-/-

July

“Can you work Saturday, Ashley?” Emma asks as she pulls up next week’s schedule. “Heather apparently can’t, and I have to have someone cover her shift. You’ll get good tips.”

“I can work then, but I need next Thursday morning off. I have an appointment.”

Emma adds Ashely’s name into the chart and looks up as Ashley rubs her hand over her stomach. “I’ll cover you. Are you finding out the gender?”

“I am. I’m excited.”

“Good.” Emma closes her laptop and stands from behind her desk. “I’m glad you’re excited. How are things out there?”

“Busy. I’d expect nothing less from the holiday week.”

Emma inhales before breathing out a slow exhale. “I wouldn’t either. I’ll come and help out. Make sure you’re taking enough breaks and drinking enough water. I don’t want you exhausting yourself.”

“I’m not,” Ashley promises, but Emma knows how tired the girl is, “but I really appreciate you.”

They walk out of Emma’s office, and while Ashley goes back to her section, Emma starts doing her rounds, checking in with her servers and cooks, making sure everything stays up to the standards she needs. This is one of their busiest weeks of the year, and she can’t afford for anything to go wrong. They had a hiccup last week with the bread order, and with how many burgers they’re selling, she really can’t afford for that to happen again.

Once she’s done checking inside, she walks to their outside area. It’s such a pleasant day out with the sun shining directly over them. The boardwalks are full of people, the beaches the same, and she sees more boats out on the water than usual.

She also sees a familiar mop of black hair sitting alone at the end of their outdoor patio. She hasn’t seen him since he left her house a few days ago, headlights of his Jeep fading in the distance.

Go figure that he’s here again. He seems to be fond of the place.

“You really like the food here, huh?”

“That and the manager.”

Emma laughs and leans against the railing as a family boards a boat a few feet away, their voices carrying over to Emma. It’s four of them, mom, dad, brother, and sister. It’s the picture-perfect New England family, and she imagines all the brochures in the tourism office look just like this.

And not at all like her.

“Laying on the charm a little too thick,” Emma sighs, shaking her head. “But I have a feeling that’s your thing.”

“I like to think it’s just the right amount.” He spears a bit of his omelet and pops a bite in his mouth. “What are you doing out here?”

“My job.”

His brow arches and he reaches out his arm, moving it around to the railing. His skin has tanned since she first met him, and she must admit, at least to herself, that he looks good. “You check in on all your customers like this?”

“Just the ones who keep coming back.” “To be fair, I figured I could avoid you seeing me if I sat out here.”

Emma rolls her eyes as the family’s boat starts and begins to stutter away. “Look, you can come here all you want. I know I - I didn’t make it seem that way, but I don’t care what you do or don’t do as long as you don’t expect anything from me.”

“Not a thing, love.”

“Good.” Emma stands, tightening the knot on her Blue Dog Tavern t-shirt. “But, you know, if you did happen to be up late at night, and I happened to be up, I wouldn’t oppose you stopping by for some coffee.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Well, some nights, of course. When I feel like it.”

Killian chuckles and leans back in the chair, the front legs coming off the ground. “When you feel like it. And how would I know that?”

Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and holds it out to him. Without a word, he types his number in and hands it back to her. “That’s how you’ll know. I hope you enjoy your meal, Jones.”

Emma taps him on the shoulder and walks away, shaking her head. She’s stupid. So damn stupid, but as she walks back into the main dining hall and sees how crazy it is, she thinks she deserves a bit of a break, a bit of fun. She’s an adult. She can make stupid decisions sometimes.

Especially hot, British stupid decisions who are here on a time limit.

Her life is messy already. What’s one more thing?

-/-

Emma pops open a beer bottle, throwing the top away and settles on David and Mary Margaret’s pool lounge chair, pulling her legs up to keep them out of the sun. Ruby, meanwhile, is on full display on a pool float, as is David. Mary Margaret is joining Emma in the no sun club.

“So, how are you lately?” Mary Margaret asks, sipping on her lemonade. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in a week.”

“That’s because you haven’t.”

Mary Margaret laughs and puts her drink on the table between them. “Well, you have to tell me what you’ve been up to. I don’t know how you deal with months without - ”

“Oh my God,” Ruby screeches, nearly flopping into the pool before she paddles her way toward the two of them, “I totally forgot.”

“What’d you forget, hon?”

“That I saw Emma’s hot British friend running yesterday, and I nearly passed out.”

“Why?” Emma asks, sipping on her beer again. “Were you running too? I told you to stop doing that when you haven’t had water in ages. You’ll legitimately pass out.”

Ruby kicks and some of the water splashes onto the side of the pool. “Hey, careful!” David yells. “I just cleaned this grout.”

“Yes, Dad,” Ruby mocks, kicking more water before paddling to the edge of the pool. “Anyway, I meant to say that I saw him, was reminded of just how attractive he is, and Emma, my darling, I must say that there is no harm in having a little summer fun. In fact, I encourage it. It’s good for the soul. And the vagina for that matter.”

Emma spits out her beer, the alcohol spilling onto the tile, and she swear David gives her murder eyes even though he’s gone back to lounging with his eyes closed. “You need a filter, Rubes.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Emma laughs and stretches her legs out, letting her toes peep out of the shade and into the brightness of the sun. “I will have you know, though, that he doesn’t plan on returning next summer. He has an expiration date.”

“So you fucked him?” Ruby asks, a little too gleeful.

“You can fill in the blanks.” Emma pulls her feet back under the shade and closes her eyes.

She’s not shy with her friends, especially Ruby. they know enough about each other’s lives to fill books about, but some things, Emma keeps under wraps unless she absolutely has to share them. Or unless she’s in the mood. Right now, with David nearby and with Mary Margaret totally judging her.

The woman is kind and fun and supportive, but she also met David a decade ago and knew he was the one on the first date. Personally, Emma thinks that is bullshit, but she’d never tell anyone that. You can know someone for years without truly knowing them, so how could anyone be so sure on a first date?

David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard somehow were.

“You know, Emma,” Mary Margaret begins, “that wall you keep up may keep out pain, but it may also keep out love.”

Emma laughs and presses the cold bottle to her lips. “Marg, I’m sleeping with a guy for fun. It’s not a love match. Let me have this. In September, I’ll go back to being the Emma Swan who doesn’t do stupid things like this.”

“I didn’t - ”

“It’s fine.” Emma finishes her drink and pulls her hair into a high bun before standing and walking toward the pool, quickly submerging herself in the water to get used to the chill. She swims over to David and pulls on his float. “Hey.”

He lifts his sunglasses. “Hey.”

“How goes the job? Still seeing a bunch of cats and dogs be cute?”

“Cute and gross. What’d Mary Margaret say to make you leave your cocoon of shade?”

“Nothing. Just thought I’d come say hi to you. I do like you from time to time.”

David chuckles and slides his glasses back on. “I only believe half of that, but it’s alright. I won’t push.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

Emma stays with the Nolans and Ruby for the rest of the afternoon, and no one bugs her about her dating life, thank God. They all mean well, truly, but sometimes the last thing Emma wants to do is listen to them. On the spectrum of how they approach love, Emma is somewhere in the middle. She’s not David and Mary Margaret with their love conquers all attitude, and she’s not Ruby with her casual, carefree approach to simply seeing where the wind takes her. She’s...well, she doesn’t know what she is. All Emma knows is that while she’s experienced the highs of what love can bring, she has also experienced the lowest of the lows.

It’s safer in the middle. If you don’t fall in love, you can’t get your heart broken. But you can have some fun when you need it.

Hence, Killian, even if he is not the someone she expected to be having her summer fun with.

God, when she thinks like that, it sounds like she’s narrating a beach movie where all the colors are too bright and no one ever sweats despite spending their entire lives outside.

Speak of the devil, a group of young girls ride down the street on bikes, laughing, their hair falling behind them, and then two minutes later, they’re back again. What the hell?

That’s when she realizes they have a friend with a camera standing on the sidewalk, taking pictures of them, and Emma rolls her eyes before turning to grab her purse and her keys. “I’m going to head home,” she yells out. “I want to beat all the drunk drivers and the illegal fireworks home.”

“Wait, don’t go,” Mary Margaret insists from her spot on the couch. “Let me get you some leftovers.”

“Marg, you don’t have to feed me.”

“I know, I know.” She stands from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. “But you so rarely cook, and it’s good for you to have real meals. And since you’re alone without - ”

“Oh my God,” Ruby squeals, king her leg out. She nearly knocks over the vases and books Mary Margaret keeps on her coffee table. “Holy fuck. Like, fuck.”

Emma drops her purse. “What?”

Ruby raises her hand and folds her fingers, beckoning Emma to come closer to her. Emma rolls her eyes, but she does it anyway, plopping down next to Ruby.

“Okay, so, I couldn’t stop thinking about your new boy toy,” she starts.

“Not a toy,” Emma corrects. “He’s fine with the arrangement too.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I wanted to know more about your little sex buddy, not that I think he’s little in any way, so I went to Ariel’s Instagram, searched through her followers, and found him. And, well…”

Ruby shoves her phone into Emma’s hands, and Emma looks down, scanning through the photos. It’s a lot of group shots of men in soccer uniforms, and she thinks that’s weird but okay. He’s a member of a little soccer club back home. That seems like something rich people in England would do. It’s probably more interesting than her extracurricular hobbies which consist of eating, going to the gym, and sitting in David and Mary Margaret’s living room. It’s not like she has any room to judge someone over what they do in their free time.

Still, she continues scrolling, careful not to like anything, and it’s not until she comes across a picture of him with his shirt off that she stops to really think.

Not because he has his shirt off. She’s seen that in person. She doesn’t need to see that in pictures.

But because of the number of likes on the picture.

And the number of followers he has.

And then the little blue checkmark next to his name.

Holy fuck indeed.

“So, that’s how he has money to rent one of the big houses over in Edgartown.” Emma closes out the app and hands Ruby back her phone. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Ruby scoffs, getting loud enough that David finally looks up with his own phone. Mary Margaret remains clueless in the kitchen. “You’re sleeping with a literal professional athlete, and that’s your reaction?”

Emma shrugs and stands from the couch as David asks Ruby to see what she was showing Emma. “David obviously finds it more interesting than me. I don’t care who he is or what he does or doesn’t do. That’s none of my business.”

Ruby gapes, David does too, and while Emma does have a bit of a weird feeling in her gut, she truly does not care what Killian Jones does. She’s got a few questions, sure, but much like the other men she’s been with lately, all she needs to know is if they’re clean and if they have condoms.

A little crude, but it’s the truth.

“Holy shit, Emma,” David whispers, but Emma is already ready to go, making her way into the kitchen to get the tupperware from Mary Margaret before this becomes a thing and she gets home too late.

It’s not a thing.

And she wants to go home.

-/-

It’s definitely not a thing, but she does think about it the next time he comes over. Not for long, though. Just when she notices a noticeably defined muscle she’s a little jealous of, but then he does this particularly delicious thing with his tongue or his hips that makes her completely forget about it.

And it’s not a thing when she thinks about it when she sees him running along the sidewalk outside the Blue Dog. She can run. She’s fit. She hates doing it, but she can. He just seems...graceful or something that she isn’t always. It’s difficult for her to articulate in her mind.

It continues to not be a thing each time she sees him, even when he invites her to his place for a change of scenery. The house, surprisingly, isn’t overly big compared to some of the other houses in the neighborhood, but it’s definitely not a place she could ever afford.

Not if she worked her literal ass off for five lifetimes and never spent any of her money.

All of the finishes are new, the design that modern coastal feel Emma sees on all the HGTV shows, and she can’t say she minds it. Her taste has always been a little more eclectic, but it’s nice, clean. And maybe one day when she’s not living in someone else’s house, she’ll actually decorate where she lives to her taste.

One day.

“Nice place,” Emma says, craning her neck so he can run his lips in just the right spot. He’s a quick study, which she appreciates, and he always remembers whatever she tells him.

“I like it,” he mumbles, his voice vibrating against her skin.

“Is this your style? Do you live in a big coastal home back in England?”

She doesn’t know why she asks, but she does.

He pulls back and raises his brow, which is this thing he’s always doing. At first it was annoying, like he was always questioning her, but now she realizes his brow likely has a mind of its own.

“Why do you ask, love?”

And much like the brow, that word seems to slip off his tongue without much thought. It has also become less annoying.

“No reason. Just curious.”

“I thought we didn’t ask personal questions.”

“You,” she corrects, tapping his chest, “don’t ask personal questions. I never said I couldn't ask.”

“I don’t think those are rules I agreed to.”

Emma ducks from underneath his arms, making her way into the open space of the living room. She unbuttons her shirt until her bra is exposed, and Killian’s eyes immediately glance down. Men are so easy.

“Okay, fair,” Emma sighs, running her hand over the back of a very well-made couch. “If I ask you a personal question, you can ask me one in return. But I have the right to veto. It’s a tit for tat situation.” He opens his mouth, and she already knows what he’s going to say. Again, men are so easy, and this is one that never passes up the opportunity for an innuendo. “Don’t say it, Jones.”

“Wasn’t going to.” He strides toward her, his movements fluid, and he puts his pointer finger in the empty belt loops of her jean shorts to pull her closer to him. He’s ridiculously warm. Then again, that could just be the flush in her cheeks. “And to answer your question, no, my flat in England doesn’t look like this. The colors are darker, but I do have a lot of blue and a few nautical pieces.”

“So you like the ocean then?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he corrects, tugging on the loops again, “you’ve already asked your question.”

“Asking if you like the ocean is not a personal question.”

“Anything can be a personal question depending on the person.” There’s a flash of something in his eyes, but Emma can’t decipher it. She’s usually a little better at reading people than that. “That can be your question for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” she asks as his hands sneak around to her ass.

“Yep. One personal question a day. Keeps things interesting while separate.”

“And we keep the veto rule?”

“Aye, we keep the veto rule, Swan,” he smiles, dipping his head down to kiss her. That’s the entire reason they’re here, after all.

“Good.”

Tomorrow, she’s totally going to ask a better question than if he likes the beach or not. He left England to hang out in Martha’s Vineyard for a few months. He obviously likes it.

“So,” Killian begins as he skillfully snaps the hook on her bra off. Emma lifts her back from the couch to give him easier access. “Tell me, darling, do you like seafood?”

His mouth grazes over her nipple, and Emma yanks on his hair, hard. “Is this your one personal question?”

“Aye.”

Emma rolls her eyes at the same time that she rolls her hips, and she thinks there must be some kind of metaphor for her life choices there.

“Love it.”

“Good,” he whispers as his warm hands run down her bare stomach and underneath the waistline of her shorts. “Then I insist you stay for dinner.”

And because Emma has been all into making stupid decisions over the past month, she does.

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #queue poetic noble land mermaid

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peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

member: hyunjin

wc: 1k

genre: angst, exes au that’s just it i think

note: just a little something i feel like i should put out into the world somehow (but not under independent means, so it seems lol). anw, i think im still on hiatus but hello! been a while

[11:57 P.M.] The elevator opens with an obnoxiously cheerful ding and bright white lights for 11:57 P.M. Hyunjin gestures for you to go in first with a shaky chuckle and you do the same with your tired smile even when it’s you going home.

He insists harder, anyway, out of habit. You always came first, even in the little things, it seems.

And you eventually do give in, a little easier than usual because it’s almost his birthday—or so you say as he steps in after and presses the button to his left. “L” for the lobby, 16 floors below from the roof deck where the birthday is untimely dwindling down.

The elevator doors then naturally slide back close as Hyunjin takes his stance directly across from you, sharply cutting the mindless chatter and faint alcohol scent that you two leave behind then above you.

Sixteen. In the now deafening silence, his warm ears notice the absence of the faint jazz music that played just hours ago when the two of you were going up. These days, your presence makes him feel as if I should say something but he still can’t, for the life of him, figure out even now that you’re alone again.

Fifteen. He tries stealing a glance at you from the mirror you lean against but you catch him almost immediately with a teasing brow. For some reason, realizing how far apart you are from each other makes him choke out an untimely laugh.

Fourteen. “What?”

Thirteen. Did you know that buildings don’t label their 13th floor as such because it’s supposedly bad luck? Now, Hyunjin just wishes there was one at least in this building just so he can trick myself into thinking that he has more time with you.

Twelve. “Hm? Nothing.” You expected that answer out of him, he can tell by the way you nonchalantly nod in response almost right after.

But he really wanted to say a lot of things. How are you? Did you enjoy the party?

Can I still see you after this?

Eleven. You notice him swinging in place as he looks up at the screen indicating the floor. Under other circumstances, you would’ve laughed or joined him but he only hears silence from your end. You must be really tired.

He stops before the 1 becomes a 0.

Ten. Nine. Nothing ever really felt right with these numbers for him. They just look weird in some way that makes him feel uneasy.

Eight. Now, that is a number he likes, sometimes along with 7 when he’s in a good mood. But as the sentiment of the saying goes, the things we like always end up passing too quickly for our liking, even floor numbers.

Hyunjin peek at your reflection from the mirror next to him this time and sees you texting someone on your phone.

He doesn’t want to think that it’s the guy from the cafe a few days ago.

The typing is sonically faint but it rings twice in his head as they come in the moment and it makes him feel dizzier than ever. Unintentionally, he misses the sight of the number 6 flashing above his head because of this.

He does catch the screen slide down to 5, though, and he guesses you notice it too as it slows down to 4 and the doors suddenly open to an empty corridor.

The two of you both poke your heads outside to no one in particular, catching a few lit-up rooms of hushed whispers and familial laughter in the distance. Hyunjin looks over at you and shrug as coolly and nonchalantly as he can.

You smile knowingly in return, as if you can still see through how he’s terribly afraid of the dark.

The doors then close on its own as you both take a step back further into the elevator, proceeding down to 3 and 2. He lets out a yawn in between and pretend to lean against the railings lining the mirrors.

“You should sleep the whole day after.” You point out without even looking up at him, just as the elevator reaches the M floor.

You might not even care about it now, seeing as it’s so late at night, but you don’t ask him this time why it’s labelled as the M floor instead of the 1st floor like you did when you were going up. Not that he knows the answer now hours later. When did he even know about things you wanted, anyway?

You finally reach the lobby, “L” as the elevator finally announces before opening with the same obnoxious ding once more. The doors open to a soft lone orange light by the main entrance, instead, and you politely wave goodbye to Hyunjin. He holds the doors open for you with a tired smile and a goodnight on his end.

But somehow, his finger doesn’t leave the button even when you turn your back on him and walk away.

“Wait!” He finds himself blurting out at the last moment before you can even disappear down the steps, like he always does.

You turn around belatedly, phone still in your hand. You were about to hold it higher for a phone call.

The diamond ring on your finger, even in the dim glow of the lobby, shines a little too brightly for my tired eyes.

He didn’t actually plan for this. But he still has so much he wants to say and he strongly feels like you should at least hear one of them before you go.

“Stay safe.” He ends up saying after a moment, flinch slightly in place and clearly indicating that that was not not what he meant to say. “Text me when you get home?”

He meant to ask, above all of the unspoken words, if you still love him. It’s a long shot but he just needs to know before you disappear completely.

And you vaguely let him know. You nod in acknowledgement and he just knows by this that you purposely chose not to read between the lines this time. “Happy birthday?” You point to your watch right below your phone as it reaches for a call. “Go back up, the boys must be waiting with your cake and candles by now.”

“Thank you.” For everything.

He then lifts his finger off the open button as soon as your ride pulls up on the driveway. The ride back to the party is faster this time.

m.list

@skzwriternet

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

quiet hymns. (kuroo tetsurou)

➵ kuroo can’t fix your problems, but he can be there for you.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: direct depiction of depression! it could potentially be triggering for people who’ve experienced it. also, there’s christian imagery; not direct reference to faith, but the symbolism’s there.

a/n: unbeta’d. this was just a little cathartic piece, and it’s quite heavy, so please please don’t read this if it’ll trigger you. but, i hope it can offer some people a sense of understanding (especially my fellow ex-”gIfTeD” kids)

You can’t sleep.

Kuroo lies next to you, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. He dozed off hours ago; he’s never had trouble sleeping. He’d been spooning you when he first went to sleep, but you’d rolled him onto his back and away from you about half an hour ago. Part of you just felt suffocated. Another part of you felt like you didn’t deserve his warmth. Not when you feel like this.

Those same few thoughts play over and over, an echoing hymn of your most pervasive flaws.

Ungrateful. Worthless. Unlovable.

Little fears, little inadequacies sprint through your mind, circling round and screaming at the top of their lungs. These demons will not rest, even in the quiet hours of the morning. You don’t dare check your phone, in fear of the number that will stare back at you.

And things had been going so well. You’d felt like you were on track.

But, it feels like you’ve been slipping. Like everything you’ve built towards is beginning to crumble, the flimsy veneer you’d placed over your own inadequacy tearing like the veil in the temple.

Everything was falling through your fingers. You couldn’t stay on top of university, no matter how hard you tried. You keep losing track of time, the days bleeding into an endless expanse of grey. You can’t even text your friends without feeling like they hate you; they’ve done nothing, said nothing to make you feel that way. You know it’s all projection, that these thoughts have no foundation.

But knowing is not the same as believing. You’ve known for a while. You’ve tried to practice a whole range of coping strategies, of fighting back against your own thoughts. But in the darkest hours of the morning, the hopelessness always sets in. You always feel most unlovable at 2 AM.

You were heralded as having such promise, too. Told that you were destined for ‘great things’, that your bright mind would take you to places you could barely even imagine. Your parents lament the loss of the ‘bright young thing’ you used to be, eight years old and untouched by misery.

What sort of parent let their child feel like a failure, simply because they had some demons? You want to find that joy you used to have, to make space for it in your heart. But it’s hard. Instead, it feels like you’re wading through purgatory, reaching for heaven while the demons grab at your ankles.

That promise was gone, now. Flung to the wind. You felt little more than worthless, these days.

You still don’t know where it started. It’s been half a decade, now. You don’t remember much of your childhood or your adolescence, but most of it is marred by melancholy. Your adolescence and early adulthood have been spent in darkness, fighting against a self-loathing that’s left room for little else.

It’s a cycle. Every time you drag yourself back up through the eight circles, you beat yourself back down. It’s on you, every time. Sometimes you wonder if you’re strong enough to fight off the sadness for much longer.

And yet, you feel guilty. You’ve been blessed. Had opportunities. A roof over your head, an education, a loving boyfriend. Feeling this way is wrong. Ungrateful. An expression of privilege.

You don’t know where you went wrong. When you started to rot inside, losing yourself to your own tempest.

You’re young – so, so young – and yet you feel like you’re past your peak. That everyone has passed you by. That they’re all moving on, climbing higher, making something of themselves. And you’re here, sat at the dinner table with the same demons you met when you were fifteen.

Ungrateful. Worthless. Unlovable.

You can’t find the strength to stop the tears.

You cover your mouth, hoping to choke back your sobs as quietly as you can. You don’t want to disturb him.

But these demons are stronger than you. They ring in your ears, prick at your eyes, scratch at your throat.

There are darker thoughts, too. Angrier voices, goading and taunting and coercing. You don’t want to entertain them, to let them take up space in your mind. Perhaps that’s why you’re so exhausted, these days; you’ve spent so much energy pushing them back that you don’t have the reserves left to do anything else.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, laden with sleep and concern.

Shit. You’d woken him up.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, smoothing a hand over his bare chest.

“Don’t apologise,” he murmurs, moving his hand over yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head.

There’s a lot you can’t – won’t – say to him. Things that you don’t want to burden him with, things that would give him reason to worry. That’s the last thing you want to do – worry him. You don’t know why you matter to him. Why he bothers with someone like you.

“Hey.” He’s persistent, as always. He shifts onto his side, the bed

He’s right here, and yet you feel so lonely. So far away.

A hand on your cheek. You brave a look at his face.

He’s looking at you so tenderly, his expression so vulnerable and full of affection. Affection that he’s given you time and time again over the years. Affection you feel you don’t deserve.

“I love you.”

It’s so honest, so sincere. He loves you. Somehow, you’ve gotten this wonder of a man to love you. To cherish you. To care about you. And he’d been here for the past few years, holding your hand and telling you that you were one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

How had you fooled him so well?

Your words catch in your throat, carrying the weight of unspoken sins.

“I don’t deserve you,” you choke. You don’t let the moment sit, rolling over to bury your face into his chest.

“That’s not true,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You press yourself against him, seeking his warmth, his light, his comfort. You don’t feel like you deserve it; but you need it.

“I love you.” His voice is gravelly, and you can tell he’s barely awake. And yet in this barely lucid state, he still seeks you out. Still gives you comfort.

You take a deep breath, feeling it shudder through your body . “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t apologise.” He always says that. No matter what, he doesn’t want you to apologise. Not for feeling like this.

He’s so warm. He lifts his leg up and drapes it across you, running his fingers along your spine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You think about it for a moment. “Not tonight.”

“You sure?”

You nod, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I just want to go to sleep.”

You know he wants to support you, to hear you out and fight these demons with you. But you had to speak to someone else about this. Someone who knew what to do. Someone who would help you love him with everything you have, unfettered by the demons clawing at your ankles.

“I’ll stay up with you,” he hums, running his fingers through your hair. “Until you fall asleep.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you choke.

“I want to,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m here for you, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s been with you through everything, never wavering. He’s always reaches out a hand in the darkness, looking at you with nothing but sympathy and adoration. ‘I’m here.’ That’s his hymn, the one he repeats over and over again. Sometimes you try to push him away, afraid that he’s wasting his time with you. Feeling that, if given the chance, he could do better.

But he stays. He gives you everything he can. And when the day is over, he tells you that he’s grateful; that he feels honoured that you would trust him like this. That you would let him take up space in your fragile heart. That even when you push him away, he knows it’s because you’re afraid. He tells you that, if he has anything to do with it, you won’t ever be alone.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never once made you feel worthless. Never once made you feel ungrateful. Never once made you feel unlovable.

Maybe you don’t deserve him. But you don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Tetsu?” Your voice is frail, delicate. You don’t trust it to express what you want to say.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiles, his golden eyes roaming your face. “I’m a very lucky man.”

He means it.

He can’t fix you. He’s only human, and he wants to do more. To soothe the ache in your heart. And yet, he knows he can’t; it’s not his battle. All he can do is lie here, by your side, doing his best to provide you with some small comfort.

He’s here. He’s with you. He’s not going anywhere.

And maybe, if you can make it through the evening, you can make peace with the fact that you’re not alone. That you won’t be alone; because there’s something important that you have to remember.

Someone loves you.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #depression tw #tw depression #nothing dark happens it's just the thought patterns

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard #it probably is anyway #Anonymous

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prodtrouver · 3 years

Text

Catch These Hands • Choi Beomgyu

Never ever have she felt so comfortable in another school with her old friends. Everyone was friendly and out-going, it was easy to approach everyone. That's how you could make friends despite your short time at school. However, you never expected such a quiet boy to be alone by himself, always watching you and your friends play away.

Pairing: volleyball player! Beomgyu x volleyball player!fem reader

Other characters: Volleyball player! Heeseung, NCT DREAM, a brief appearance of an old friend! Jungwon.

Genre/warning: introvert-extrovert pair, slight angst, fluff, feeling of left out, sport-romance, slow-burn

no. of words: 3.4k words

You watched the 4 boys challenge each other in a game is basketball. Laughter and mad screams fill the court. Smiles clear on their faces as one of them tried to snatch the ball from the other. Today was a good day, the warm sun covered by a few clouds, the breeze was perfect, and well- breezy.

“y/n, come join us!” Huening Kai yelled, but you shook your head. “I don’t want to play with giants,” you chuckled. They all pouted but went back to playing.

Soobin ran away from Yeonjun, the ball being dribbled by the taller. The next second, he did a lay-up and the boys groan. “Round isn’t over!” You called out, and Taehyun snatched the ball from Soobin.

Once again, you laughed but noticed a figure on the side of your eyes. You look at the bench across from you and see a boy. It’s him again...

His eyes glued on the 4 boys who looked too focused in the game. Suddenly, his eyes met yours and moments flashes in your head...

You bolted down the stairs of your home, and you heard your brother scolding you for your actions.

“I’m not even hurt, Jeno!” You stated, thrilled to finally transfer schools. Jeno pouts at you before he carefully places the plate in front of you. Truth to be told, you are excited, however, nervous. Many of your other friends claimed that the school you’re transferring to is so friendly and jolly.

You don’t know for real, but you are curious how your first day will go. You dropped your spoon when you heard the doorbell ring throughout your house. Jeno quickly gets the door and was greeted by the joyful and giggly voices of his friends.

“where’s our precious y/n?” You bounced off your chair when you heard Jaemin call for your name. His voice like honey and almost motherly will always soothe you. You just love the boy, maybe even more than Jeno.

You jumped into his arms and he laughed before he spun you around. He kissed your head and greeted you a good morning.

“Aw, look at you in another school uniform! I’m going to miss you so much,” Jaemin pretends to cry.

“Yeah! Who am I going to argue with now?” Chenle sulks, but you laugh as a reply.

“Do you want to come in or not?” Jeno said, and they all came in. Soon, a plentiful of food filled your dining table and everyone was getting excited.

You get ready your bag for you will leave any minute. You reached your hand out to grab a piece of candy coin, only for it to touch another person’s hand.

“Sorry,” the boy spoke. You grabbed a few chocolate coins and avoided the eyes of Donghyuck, your ex.

“Y/n, be careful, okay? I hope you have a positive first day!” Jisung shouted as they watched you put on your shoes.

“Yeah!” You shouted before you opened the door. One of your feet already outside the house.

“Don’t forget our volleyball practice after school, though!” And you locked the door.

You take a deep sigh before finally walking to your new school.As soon as you stepped into the building, eyes were on you. They didn’t go unnoticed by you either; it puzzled you instead. You think that you won’t suit in.

You pull out the laminated paper from your bag. Color coded boxes to symbolize your subjects for that time. Classroom numbers on top of those boxes.

Speedily, you searched for your classroom. After all, it would be terrible for you if you’re late on the first day.

Unfortunately, you crashed into someone.

“I’m sorry!” You spoke and grabbed your schedule from the side. Your eyes met the eyes of the person you crashed into.

They were lovely, almost mesmerizing to look at, but his voice cut your trance off.

“It’s okay,” he said, and helped you stand up. Instantly, he walked away. Your eyes followed him, but you went back to looking for your first classroom.

When you found the room, you were greeted by a shout. “GOOD MORNING, LEE Y/N!”

You jumped and some of them laughed at you. The boy who yelled quickly made his way towards you. He took your hands in his and laughed widely.

“I’m Huening Kai, nice to meet you!” He said and pulled you to a higher level of seating.

“These are my friends! Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun!” The 3 boys waved at you and you grinned sweetly. Huening pulled you to sit beside him and patted your head.

“I heard you’re from SMA and there are a lot of athletic students there. Could you be one of them?” Taehyun asked you, curiosity shown in his eyes, and obviously, it was shown in the others as well.

“Oh, maybe, you’re a tennis player! Oh, oh- a badminton player? An archer!? You might play baseball, maybe basketball-,”

“Hyuka, you’re getting too excited again! Let her speak,” Soobin said and gently patted your shoulder.

“I’m actually... I play volleyball-,”

“WHAT!? REALLY!? WE PLAY VOLLEYABLL TOO!” Yeonjun exclaimed and immediately, Taehyun covered his mouth.

“I apologize, he’s overreactive. Anyway, that’s really cool! I heard the Academy has amazing volleyball players, especially the ones who are in the Varsity team.” Taehyun said, and you laughed.

“Were you in the female’s Varsity team, though? If you are, that’s so sick then! SMA held the girls’ volleyball championship title for 3 years straight!” Hyuka said, slightly patting your shoulders.

“Well, I kinda am- I used to be their second coach, but I stopped because of an injury that happened to me before.” You frowned,

“Is it fatal?” Soobin softly asked, concerned, and a bit disappointed. Your soft smile returned and shook your head. They all sighed in relief, which somewhat confused you.

“Why did you stop playing then?” Taehyun asked, you looked at your hands. “ I just stopped playing, I guess,”

“Don’t you want to play again?”

And that's how you're now standing on the sidelines of the volleyball court. The 4 boys in their orange and black uniforms.

"Who's who?" You asked as you sat down on the benches. They all look at each other before looking at you, "and there's only 4 of you?"

"Not so many males want to play volleyball, so it became a problem, really." Soobin scratched his head while looking at Yeonjun.

"Wait- are you guys... Did you just form your team this year?" You asked them and they all nodded. Your mouth agape because of the shock.

"Okay then... Let me watch you guys play?" You asked, and they all nodded once more. They went to their positions, and you immediately noticed something.

Yeonjun was standing on the right-side hitter's position, Soobin was standing in the middle of the front zone, they were standing on the right side. On the left, Taehyun was standing in the back zone's middle area, and Hyuka in front of Yeonjun from the other side.

"They already have positions..." You muttered unconsciously and watched them play.

You watched them attentively; the way they spike because they don't have other players, the way they pass the ball, it was amazing.

You're just slightly disappointed they don't have other members to increase their okay. You notice something moving from the side of your eyes. You turned your head and saw the boy from that morning.

It's him again, you thought. He moves to sit on the benches a far, a spot where the boys won't notice he's there. Your eyes were glued on him and you never miss the look of loneliness on his face.

"y/n! Come play with us!" Soobin grabbed your hand, snatching your attention from the lonely boy. You nod and take your jacket off. Soon, you enter the court.

It's been weeks since you transferred to BHA.

Everyone was friendly to you. You met other great people and Lee Heeseung, the new player in Team Together, aka BHA's Volleyball Varsity Team.

The boy is there again, his eyes follow the playing figures of the 5 boys. You stood up from your seat and walked towards him.

"Hello," you spoke to him, he flinched. He just looked at you and it made you chuckle. You sit beside him, your hand on your skirt, and the other beside his.

"You've been watching the boys for a while now. Do you have a problem with them?" You asked and his eyes widened. He immediately shook his head and frowned. His eyes moved to stare at the rubbery ground.

"I... They all look so happy and friendly- I'm jealous, I want to be friends," he whispered. You felt your heart melt at the sight. You were about to place a hand on his arm until you heard Taehyun and Yeonjun shout.

"Where are we going to find a setter!? We're not complete and you already want us to join the upcoming Academies Volleyball Championship!?" Taehyun shouted at Yeonjun, who looked annoyed.

"Don't you want this, Taehyun!? That's the reason we made this team!" Yeonjun shouted back, Heeseung stood between them.

"Hey, hey, stop it!" Heeseung gently grabbed Taehyun's shoulder and pushed him away from Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun, Taehyung has a point! We can't immediately join the Championships when we don't even have a setter. We don't have enough time either," Soobin spoke.

You look at the boy beside you and examine his sitting figure. He grabs his arm and made him stand up. His eyes grew wide at your unexpected actions.

"Good figure- Yeonjun, how about this kid?" You shout and pointed at him. His eyes grew wider as he got the urge to run away and never show himself ever again.

The boys walk towards him and examine him. Huening moved to stand behind him, same as Heeseung.

"Hey, kid- do you know how to play?" Yeonjun asked, but he shook his head. The boys look at him, shocked, before glancing at you who looked unfazed.

"You don't even know how to play! Y/n, why him!? We don't have enough time if Choi Yeonjun here wants to join the Championships." Taehyun glares at Yeonjun, who glared back.

"Volleyball is a sport open for everyone. The championship is 3 months away. This boy... What's your name?" You look at him,

"You don't even know how name!" Taehyun shouted, which made Huening rush to his side and nuzzle him away from everyone.

"Choi Beomgyu..."

"Okay, Beomgyu! From this day on, you are now part of Team Together!" You said after you felt something tingle in you when you first saw the boy.

"What!? So sudden-,"

"If you agree to join the championship, I will permanently be your coach. I will train you and tell you everything you have to know... Especially SMA's varsity team, Team Dream. What do you say?" You kept the smile on your face, even if the others have hesitant ones.

They sigh and Yeonjun reached his hand out. You gladly shook it and looked at Beomgyu, who looked distraught. You pat his shoulder,

"Leave Choi Beomgyu to me,"

"No, Beomgyu!" You walk to his side with the ball in your palms.

"You turn your hand when the ball reaches your left ear, don't immediately touch the ball!" You said as you pass the ball to Taehyun.

"Also, jump higher! If you jump that high, the ball won't even go to the other side!" You said before going back to the sidelines. Beomgyu sighs and wipes the sweat off his face.

"Beomgyu, I want you to do it while staying aware of your surroundings!" You clap your hands and motions Taehyun to do a serve.

The ball makes its way towards the other side of the court. Huening passed it to Beomgyu, who jumped high but unable to make the ball go to the other side.

He falls to the ground, his buttock his the floor first, and he groans in pain. The members sigh, feeling hopeless at their new member.

Yeonjun helps Beomgyu stand up, but the disappointed look on his face didn't go unnoticed by Beomgyu. Yeonjun then faces you who looked defeated, but you aren't hopeless at all.

"That's all for practice today- everyone can go home now. Don't forget to change and eat well. Beomgyu, you're going with me," you say and exit the gym.

Beomgyu stood there, his eyes glued to the floor. He felt like crying; he was close to letting others step on his heart. The other boys left the gymnasium, but Beomgyu stayed.

He knew he will never fit in with them. They're such out-going and athletic people, but him? He wasn't out-going nor athletic at all. He's just the boy with no friends at all.

He didn't know what he was thinking when he accepted this.

"Beomgyu, get changed. We're going somewhere," you came back and helped him stand up.

You softly patted his shoulder before sitting on the benches. He stared at you,

"What? I'll wait for you here, so get changed," you smile and Beomgyu nodded. He went to the changing room to clean himself.

Your eyes followed the boy.

His aura screamed introvert and loneliness. You wanted to change that, make him surrounded by people he wants to be friends with. However, it looked like the team didn't want Beomgyu.

You don't know, but there's something about the boy. It makes you feel confident and protective, yet pitiful.

Minutes later, Beomgyu came back. You stood up from your seat. "Let's go watch some boys practice."

Beomgyu wowed when he saw Donghyuck do a dump to the other team.

"So this is Team Dream..." He muttered, and you nodded.

"They're joining the championship again this year, and if we win until the finals, we might go against them." You said, and Beomgyu stepped back. You turned around to look at him.

The panicked and afraid expression on his face was the expression you were expecting. You held his hand and moved him closer.

"Beomgyu, the reason I'm a little harsh on you is because a setter is expected to lead the team. I know that it's too much pressure, but that's why, I'm here to help you. Don't be afraid, I'm here, Beomgyu," You assured him but he shook his head.

"N-no! I'm not good for the job, y/n! I'm not a good setter and I'm never one. I can't even lead the boys, heck, they don't even talk to me! I'm just an introverted boy who wanted to be friends with people who are out of my reach."

"Beomgyu, listen here- you are an amazing setter. You may not have realized it, but it's your low confidence that's crushing you." You say, but he walks away.

You bite your lips as you watch Beomgyu walk away, however; you heard the chant of your brother's team.

Suddenly, you're reminded by the reason you stopped playing volleyball.

"I was like you too, Beomgyu!" You shouted,

"I was scared that people wouldn't trust me because I'm such a lonely person! I wanted to become friends who are out of my reach, but I couldn't. I know how you feel, I know how hard it is to become a setter because I was one too!" He looked at you with a slightly surprised expression.

"But I think it's better than getting the trust of your teammates first than getting your trust broken by them." You look tearful and Beomgyu stood frozen in his place.

"I stopped volleyball because my teammate injured me... I’m fearful experiencing that, so I stopped, but I will never forget the fun I found in volleyball." You walked towards him and clasped his hand.

"I know how you feel, Gyu. I also know you're an intelligent boy. The boys told me they're only waiting for you to blossom and once you're ready-,"

"We will win the championship," Beomgyu turned around at the voices he heard. He bit his lips to endure the tears falling. Huening ran up to Beomgyu and tightly hugged him.

"We believe in you, Beomgyu. I'm sorry we treated you like that," Huening said and broke the hug.

"Sorry, dude-," Yeonjun smacked his shoulder. Soobin ruffled Beomgyu's hair and apologized as well, Heeseung did the same. Taehyun stood in front of Beomgyu, his arms crossed but a smile on his face.

"We have 3 months before the championship, can you practice with us? As a team this time?" Taehyun asked and Beomgyu looked at you.

The wide and sweetest smile danced on your lips. You tugged on his jacket. "What's your answer, Gyu?"

"Yes, I will practice with you!" He shouted, and the boys cheered.

"ONE DREAM! Tomorrow X Together, fighting!" Yeonjun laughed before they all walked away. Food being discussed among them for the night. You were about to follow them until you heard your name called by someone.

"y/n! I didn't know you're here!" You turn around to see Dream running towards you. A laugh escaped your lips, and you saw the 5 boys turn around to look at you.

"How's BHA? Is everything okay there? Are they treating you, right?" Jaemin asked, and you laughed. You nodded your head,

"Hey, y/n~ Haechannie wants to take you out again!" Mark wrapped an arm around Haechan's shoulder. The younger pushed Mark away and apologized to you.

"A setter with a setter! A perfect combination!" Renjun spoke, and the boys laughed. You glance at the 5 boys before taking a step back from Dream.

"I'm busy right now- after all, I have a future champion to train!" You intentionally shouted for Team Together to hear.

"Goodbye, see ya!" You said before running towards the 5 boys. Wide and relieved that you're staying with them.

That night changed everything.

Here you are, standing by the audience, hand in hand as you watched Team Together vs Team Dream. Butterflies flying in your stomach when Jaemin did a spike on Team Together.

The past 3 months were honestly the best for you. Team Together won so many matches against other teams despite being a rookie team.

You realized the feelings you first felt when you first met Beomgyu. The times you spent training together, the times you laughed, the times you played, the times when you both almost got hurt... It was all coming to you.

You like Beomgyu- you love him, however, with the championship being close, you didn't want to distract him.

Now that both teams are tied, it scared you. You didn't want them to lose, but you also want them to win. Team Dream was being cheered on by your old school, the same goes for Team Together.

"You think, they'll win this?" Jungwon moves to your side. You didn't spare a glance at the boy and kept your eyes on the match. Your hand gripped on the railing: just one more point and it's victory.

However, Team Together already looks troubled. You don't know how much more they could handle with the pressure of being one point away.

Beomgyu looked like he was about to faint. He was shaking; it was so visible even from a far. Heeseung placed a hand on Beomgyu's back to keep him from falling before they went back to their positions.

Beomgyu shut his eyes before taking a deep breath. Mark was the one who did the serve this time, his jump server caught Team Together off, but they caught the ball perfectly.

Beomgyu looked extremely tired. He was exhausted by Team Dream's plays.

Suddenly, you act without thinking.

Jungwon friend placed a hand on your shoulder while you attentively watch the volleyball match everyone has been waiting for. You slightly lift yourself from the railings.

"What- yah! Y/N! You'll fall!" Jungwon held onto you closely.

You shouted without thinking.

"CHOI BEOMGYU! I LOVE YOU, SO YOU BETTER WIN THIS!"

Everyone was shocked, and it took them back, but Beomgyu took it as an advantage to do a spike on Team Dream. Then the time ran out.

They won. Team Together won. Everyone jumped from their seats, chanting the name of Beomgyu and Team Together.

"TOMORROW X TOGETHER!" Your school chanted, you run down from the benches, and towards the team. Immediately, you jumped into their arms.

"You did it! You won the championship! YOU'RE A CHAMPION!" You jumped and hugged everyone.

"IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!" Taehyun spun you around, which made you laugh. Students gather around the 6 of you, their chants of their names made you smile like a mad person.

You looked at Beomgyu, who was crawled into a ball. You smiled and walked towards him. You tapped on his shoulder, which made him look at you. He smiled widely and hugged you immediately.

"I love you too, my princess." He whispered before he kissed your forehead. Heeseung took your hand and placed you on his shoulder.

"OUR COACH!" Yeonjun and Hyuka shouted, which resulted to you hiding your face. You turn around to see Team Dream's puzzled faces.

"Heeseung, please put me down," you said, and he did. You run towards Dream with TXT behind you.

"So you're their legendary secret coach," Haechan said, his head tilted as he examined the 6 boys behind you.

"Yes, and that was an amazing play. You tired my boyfriend," you pulled Beomgyu close to you. His eyes widened and his cheeks were red.

"Well, congratulations- also, take care of my sister," Jeno patted his shoulder. Their eyes widen,

"SISTER!?"

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