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servin-up-surveys · 2 years

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survey #051

“her place of work is not that far away: it’s the room next door”

Describe your hometown. What's it like there? It was a crappy and dangerous place. What's your favorite memory with your last ex? Probably this one night during my first stay at her house where we just stayed up listening to music and talking about totally random and pointless shit. What is the oldest online account that you still use? Uhhhh... maybe my Facebook? What country does your favorite band hail from? Ozzy is from England and Rammstein is German. Ever wondered what it would be like dating the same gender as you? I've dated the same gender as myself. When was the last time you smoked pot? Never. Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? No. Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) I use one ON me, but three are on the floor nowadays because the shower door stays cracked and I also dry off mostly on the toilet because I need to sit. Do your mothering instincts come out easily? No, honestly. It's weird but I literally feel more maternal towards s/os than kids. I HAVE however noticed the longer I've been helping Mom babysit the kids, the more "I need to protect/make them feel better" sort of upset I get if one of the kids are crying because they're hurt or something. Tampons or pads? I really don't like either, but I prefer tampons regardless. Who in your opinion is the hottest male celebrity? Markiplier, sobs. Who did you last fall asleep with? My boyfriend. Who were you last in a car with? My mom. Are you embarrassed/uncomfortable dancing in front of other people? Yes. Would you ever consider styling your hair as a mohawk? No. Of all the pets you have had throughout your life, which one has meant the most to you? Is there a reason why? My dog Teddy. I felt connected to that dog on a spiritual level. Roman is like, RIGHT behind him. Do you think that fake plants are tacky? Have you ever seen any that looked real? I mean, not really. I really just don't care. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 109. When was the last time you made out with somebody? No one needs to know that. What tv show(s) have you been watching currently? OH MY GOD Girt and I started Extraordinary Attorney Woo the other day AND I. AM. OBSESSED. I have not been this into a show in SO FUCKING LONG and omg I absolutely adore it, you should 100% check it out if you don't mind reading subtitles if you're unfamiliar with Korean. What pet names do you use with your significant other? A lot, really. I probably say "hunny" more than anything though. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? I haven't and I probably wouldn't. Can you hear anything right now? Yeah; I have "Moskau" by Rammstein on rn. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No, I can't. Have you ever missed a flight? I sure did, and I was MEGA fucking upset; I was making a surprise visit to Sara on her bday, and I was supposed to be there before she even woke up, but thank god I still got there without the secret slipping out. Her parents were great with making things seem normal and her dad slipping off to pick me up under the guise of doing something else. Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them? Idk about our immediate neighbors, but I know there are dogs in the neighborhood because at least one never shuts up. Do you know your significant other's passwords? No, they're not my business. Would you rather be a panda or grizzly bear? Probably a panda. Do you like BBQ sauce? No, I actually hate it. Do you hang out with your siblings' friends? No. Have you ever kept anything wild as a pet? As a child, yes, and I thoroughly implore others NOT to do it unless it is a rescue mission by an educated professional. Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood? I honestly like Carrie. Think about your ex, your crush, or the person you’re currently dating. Were you attracted to that person as soon as you met them, or did the attraction develop over time? I wasn't immediately physically attracted to Girt, but I'm pretty certain I was drawn to him emotionally very quickly. What is the sexual orientation of the last person you talked to? Straight. Did you get ice cream from the ice cream truck when you were little? Do they still have an ice cream truck where you live? Yes, every now and again. There's not one around here. What has been the most traumatic experience of your life? Does it still bother you? My boyfriend that I practically worshiped leaving me very abruptly, and yes. I worry all the goddamn time Girt will eventually have enough and leave. Your last ex finds out you’ve fallen in love with another person? She already knows this. How long was your longest make out? lmao bro this question makes me think of someone keeping track of time like a goddamn high score, which isn't something I do. Idk, idc. In your opinion, which hurts more: physical or emotional pain? Emotional. Is there a certain song or band who remind you of specific people? Motionless In White and Black Veil Brides will absolutely always make me think of Jason because those were his favorites. My mom is also WILDLY obsessed with Metallica, so they make me think of her without fail, too. Can you recall the last time you bought flowers for someone? What kind? Uh, I don't think I've given someone flowers since I dated Jason, probably for Valentine's Day one year. They woulda been roses. I'm planning on getting Girt at least a rose or two this year as well for our anniversary, coming up real soon. And when was the last time someone sent flowers to you? What kind? Tyler got me an unnecessarily large bouquet of roses one time when he visited my house while we were dating for like two weeks. Are there any books that you own more than one copy of? I don't believe so, no. As a child, what was a trait or habit you had that annoyed your parents? Ummm... idk. Besides always wanting to be on the computer. Does your best friend get along with their parents? I don't know how Girt got on with his dad, but he and his mom are great. Is there anything in you room your parents would be pissed about? What? No. Are you welcome at the last person you kissed's house? Yes. Have you ever gotten anything racist about you yelled at you? No. Does the last person whose house you were at like anyone? I was at my sister's place, and she's married with three kids, so. Have you ever watched someone being carried into an ambulance? My mother, yes. Have you ever showered with a member of the opposite sex? No. Has a boyfriend/girlfriend ever given you a stuffed animal? Yes. I still have all of them. Do you put clothes on your animals? Cookie rarely has a fuzzy jacket on, but I mean, she's a tiny chihuahua so it's for when she could get cold going out somewhere. She LOVES going on car rides. Who do you feel most comfortable talking about your feelings with? Probably Mom. Have you ever walked on the beach at night? Yes, it's a stunning thing. What would you do if you walked in on your best friend having sex? My best friend is my boyfriend so I'd be pretty fuckin upset. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your bf/gf? They're the same people, but in the hypothetical situation my bf WASN'T my best friend, I would absolutely forgive neither of them. I'd never speak to their asses again, quite frankly. Are you mad at your significant other? No, I have no reason to be. Have you ever had a UFO sighting or a sighting of strange lights in the sky? A strange light, absolutely. I'm not saying it was extraterrestrial in origin, but it was absolutely weird and I don't have an explanation for it after researching. What by your definition is the naughtiest thing you have done? Done "things" on furniture we shouldn't have. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? HA, that ^ Would you rather have big or small dogs? I'm usually more drawn to big (or medium-sized) dogs, but I don't really want a dog, period. Do you like your first name? Yeah. Do you wear glasses? Yes, I FINALLY have glasses again. I don't like wearing them, but god is it good to see. Who is the boy you trust most? Calling a nearly 30 y/o man "boy" is weird to me, but w/e, Girt. Which girl do you trust the most? Mom. How many times have you been engaged (if any at all)? None. What do you think of the United States? Lol we fucking suck, and I say that with great confidence. It feels disgusting to even be an American. Is the United States really the best country in the world? HELL no. I don't know which country is, but it sure as hell isn't here. Have you ever been called something and you didn’t know what it meant? I sure have; at the time I didn't know "martyr" had a modernized definition when I was called this by one of Jason's friends, and I AGREED with him because I thought he meant it in (I believe) the original way, where I'd die for what I believe in. It's humiliating to remember with how it must've made me look. It was actually after this event that Jason full-on deleted and blocked me there on Facebook. Do you have a picture of you and your lover kissing? No, actually. I think like two pictures exist of us both in the frame, and that's not one of 'em. Do you think you will/did you cry at your graduation? I shed a couple tears. What’s your second favorite color? Maroon or coral, idk. Do ever wish you lived in a different country? Oh yes. Have you ever been involved in an affair? No. Are you a parent? No. What about an uncle or an aunt? I am. How many jobs have you had? Technically three, but two were so short-lived I barely even count them. Hell, saying I've even had a single job is hardly accurate. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? No. What was the last music video you watched? Did you like it? "Ausländer" by Rammstein, and I did enjoy it. All of their videos are always great. Have you ever had a pet turtle before? So as a kid, a red-eared slider (an invasive species, just to make this worse) wandered into our yard... aaaaand I kept it in our kiddy pool. I did eventually let it go where the turtle most likely did come from (a pond down the road), but that whole situation is something to NEVER repeat. Have you ever met someone with two different color eyes? Yes, a doctor recently! It was even cooler because he was African American, straight outta Gambia actually, and one was this GORGEOUS, deep blue, and the other the traditional brown. He was awesome. Have you ever felt like someone was following you? YES. I have an EXTREME phobia of people standing behind me, I don't care how far away they are. DO NOT fucking stand behind me because I start panicking that you're going to grab me. Have you ever made out with more than one person in one night? No, that's not something I'd be okay with doing. Do you think there is a soulmate out there for everyone? I don't believe in the concept of soulmates, no. If you have any piercings, who did them? I know Claire's did my earlobes the first time and probably the second, then everything else I ever had were done by actual professionals at tattoo parlors. Please do not get your kid's ears pierced at Claire's for a number of reasons. Are you on your period? No; I'm actually like over a month late, but it has to be because I, first off, fucked up my birth control, but my meds have also been changing a lot and stuff and that can really affect your cycle. I'm not worried because Girt and I still haven't gone ~that far~ yet so being late literally can't mean anything that bad. Have you made out with anyone in the last 2 weeks? Yeah. Has a boy ever called you babe/baby? Yeah; I know Jason said one of them once, but I'd asked him to not call me it again and he never did again. I know Tyler did too, and once again, told him not to. Girt is the only one that has where it didn't REALLY make me uncomfortable, but neither to this day is my preference, so I'm thankful he doesn't use either a lot at all. Have you given anything up for Lent? I know I'd tried as a kid, but that was the extent of it. I don't think I ever succeeded any year. Have you ever gotten kicked out of a class for being disruptive? No. Do you have a good friend of the opposite sex that is not a boy/girlfriend? Yes, Sam. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else would they be mad? Well yeah, and he'd have the right to be. Who was the last person you knew to have a baby? Uhhh... idk, I know so many people having kids around this time. Hell, most are onto their second. Has anyone ever cheated on their significant other for you? What Joel did was absolutely cheating, yes. What’s the age difference between your parents? Two years and a few months. What’s the nicest thing your best friend has ever said to you? Just that he loves me, ig would be the top. He's said a lot of sweet things. Name one of your favourite foods that starts with the letter "s." Shrimp. Ever had surgery? Yes, twice. Can you handle blood? Yeah. What’s your best friend’s middle name? He doesn't have a middle name. What color do you want your wedding suit/dress to be? It's very likely gonna be black. Would you have a party at your parent's house without their permission? I'd do that to neither parent, I respect them too much for that.

#lyrics: ''puppe'' by rammstein #survey #surveys #random surveys #random questions

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

#yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

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Do you have any long kiribaku fic requests? Like, 100k, 200k, 300k etc

Something I can sit with for a bit? I’ve been burning through so many that are under 50k and I love that but I have a weekend free to do nothing for the first time in forever and want to settle in

I'm actually glad that someone has asked for this rec because I've been feeling really bad lately that my account has been so inactive while I recover.

So, to try and make up for it, I've put together this rec list of some longer kiribaku fics (maybe not 300k but still pretty long) that have had such a profound impact on me since I've joined the fandom, some of which have really helped with and improved my writing!

I hope you find something of interest among these choices, Anon, as I've enjoyed them all so much! <3

1. In the Roaring Autumn by thegrimzuera. (94k) I'm in the process of re-reading this fic at the moment! A College AU with Katsuki as the main POV (which I love) and his characterization is so well done. I actually picked up and adapted a lot of my current Katsuki writing from this fic when I was first figuring out how to write his character! Highly recommend, Kirishima is a lovely jock who ends up teaching a scorned Katsuki about friendship and how being manly means taking responsibility for your actions. A slow burn that is very well done, all around just a really fun read and so I am reading it again (and again and again and again and...)

2. Tomorrow, Today by timetoboldlygo. (87k) It's been a while since I've read this fic but I've been meaning to come back to it for some time now (HAH, that's like a pun without the set up because -) It's a Time-Travel AU! Love love love that. Future Husbands Bakugou and Kirishima get sent back into their old junior high bodies (to before they met at Yuuei, if I'm remembering correctly). Lots of feelings and working through marital conflicts. I think the story did a good job of taking the usual time-travel trope and giving it an interesting spin from a new perspective that I hadn't seen before!

It's where my love for analyzing Bakugou's younger behaviors came from and probably what eventually spawned the creation of my OC fic later! 😁

3. Broken Bridges by DeathBelle. (68k) Have you ever, uh... have you ever, um, pining?? Yeah. That's this fic. Future Pro-Hero's Red Riot and Ground Zero haven't spoken since their graduation from Yuuei High, and it's a wild ride once they bump into each other again at an active villain site (so bad at trying not to spoil things, ahaha). Another really fun read, a bit on the shorter side compared to the others on this list but it's longer than A Secret Admirer (which might be my longest fic on this account) so I thought it was worth mentioning!

4. Opposed to the Typical by heronfem. (178k) I've talked about this one before (quite recently maybe) and while I was only ever able to read through this once so far, it has stayed in my head for so much longer afterwards, and I think that's a true testament of a great story! Super immersive, really pulls you in for the long haul. If you enjoy lots of world building and fun imagery, fashion labels and plenty of artsy drama, I highly recommend this fic. You can tell a lot of time and attention to detail went into this one, and for that it has gained a ton of my respect!

5. Crown of Thornes | Book 1 by WonderBoyz. (111k) I'm still in the process of reading this one so I don't know all of what happens but as far as Fantasy AUs go, this has really captured my attention. It's gritty, it's got action, lots of conflict and plot twists, I just imagine the fic author must have had so much fun writing this and that gets me really excited to read more! And it's part of a series so there's even more to read after!

6. Moment of Truth by Fanficismything. (104k) This is going to be a really bold claim for me to make, alright? But. This might be my favorite fic on ao3. I have read this fic numerous times because it's a great adaption of one of my favorite tropes and I had so much fun reading it that it literally can't be anything other than my favorite fic. A kiribaku rom-com based on the 2009 movie The Proposal (AKA the greatest fucking movie of all time). I would cradle this fic in a blanket because it just hits all of my comfort feels and makes me so happy. I implore you that if you think you don't need this fic in your life well, then, you are simply wrong. 😂

7. An Abundance of Penguin Shit by Vixensheart. (214k) An Animal Handler AU Y'ALL THIS IS THE SHIT I LIVE FOR! I really enjoyed this fic for so many different reasons, and this is another piece of work that heavily influenced my own portrayal of Katsuki in my writing; I thought his characterization in this was really interesting and leaned on a lot of certain traits of his that I hadn't really considered much before reading this one. There's also (similar to: Opposed to the Typical) so much great detailing and world building and character analysis, ugh I love it sooo much you don't even know. BAKUGOU PLAYS WITH A MF PENGUIN AHXBHAXBA. It's so damn cute and I honestly can't get enough of it. Always recommending. Always always.

8. Metallic Bonds by Kaustikha. (106k) This is another new fic for me that I've just recently gotten my hands on; a Fullmetal Alchemist AU! I've never really dabbled in Fullmetal Alchemist before (yet) but this AU is written so well that honestly, I almost feel like I don't even need to know much at all to enjoy it. It's already so entertaining on its own, the dynamics are really interesting and I'm just all-in-all super hooked on this one right now! I'm really excited to see where it goes!

9. Chitchat and Pencil Pushers by beebuzz. (92k) Of course, I literally could not have made this list without mentioning this fic. A Job Office AU that I find myself coming back to time and time again. Lots of pining and really I don't know what it is about Insert-Regular-Job-Here AU's that I enjoy so much when it comes to kiribaku, but it has my entire soul.

I enjoyed each of these fics for their various own reasons, but mostly I enjoyed all of them and felt the need to add them all into this list because I can tell just how much effort and energy has gone into these works. The characterization is always really well done, the character's conversations feel authentic and engaging, the struggles that they all face vary so drastically (while somehow all being the same exact characters) that it is honestly so fascinating to me to read through these works and know that, inherently, they are all the same story rewritten with a new skin but, outwardly, they're so unique and show so much personality and range between them all.

Isn't that so amazing?? I feel like that's so amazing... maybe I'm just going insane after quarantine, ahaha :,D

Both are viable options, but whichever way that it is, a huge shout-out to these writers and to the others who I have been binging on this hellsite (affectionate) since I got here. Some of these stories bring so many people comfort and entertainment, myself included, and it's nice to be able to share them with you as well!

I hope you find something fun to read! ❤️🧡

#kiribaku #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bakushima #kiribaku fic #kiribaku fic recs #bakushima fic #bakushima fic recs #bakusquad #fantasy au #office au #animal handler au #fake dating #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #ao3 fic recs #ao3 author #bnha #my hero academia

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sky-berrie · 3 years

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Stitch - Damian

Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood.

The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.

You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.

You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.

“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.

“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”

Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.

“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”

“Do you remember how to sew?”

“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”

“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.

You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.

You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.

“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.

“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”

“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.

You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.

When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.

You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.

“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”

Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.

“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”

You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.

You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.

You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.

“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”

You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”

Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.

“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”

You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.

“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.

You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”

“No time,” he said.

“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”

“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.

“Please! I…”

“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”

“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.

“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.

“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.

Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.

Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.

“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.

You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”

It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.

“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”

You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.

Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.

#Damian Wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #BatFam #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #damian wayne imagine #batfam imagine #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys imagine #robinchicklets

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kthstrawberryshortcake · 3 years

Text

BTS Reactions: Their S/O is Inexperienced Yet in Their Mid 20s

A/N: Here it is, my first post after my long-ass hiatus :) I hope you guys enjoy it! Requests are OPEN, please send some over! <3

PREMISE: OT7 reacting to finding out that their s/o is physically inexperienced relationship-wise / that this is their s/o’s first relationship despite them being in their mid 20s

A/N: I think a lot of people won't understand why this is a reaction in the first place (lol) but it can be super uncomfortable / awkward to have not dated / had any experience at that age, and a lot of people react badly to finding that out about someone. It's definitely an insecurity for a lot of people (myself included).

warning: mostly unedited due to my status as a trash gremlin

Jin:

Jin was completely shocked when he found out that you had never dated before him. Without thinking, he let this incredulity show on his face, total surprise evident and eyebrows raised. He was briefly silent in disbelief. You took that to mean that he thought you were weird now. You certainly felt that way.

Involuntarily, tears welled up in your eyes and Jin finally registered your distress. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern, gently brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. You stared down at your feet, murmuring “You probably think I’m super strange now.” in explanation. Jin shook his head insistently, imploring that he didn’t find it weird at all.

“Honestly I was just shocked because I don’t know how you didn’t have people practically lining down the block to date you.” He explained, bringing a small smile back to your face. He pulled you into a hug, assuring you that he was in no hurry as long as he got to spend time with you.

Yoongi:

You and Yoongi were having a cozy night in and catching up on dramas. In the show you were presently watching, there was a character who was in her mid 20s that had never dated or even kissed anyone. Yoongi scoffed, rolling his eyes at this. “This is so unrealistic. Like come on, seriously? How do you get to be that age having never dated, having never even kissed somebody? It’s a completely absurd concept.”

You started to curl in on yourself, looking down with a tortured expression on your face. You were scared to explain the truth, fearful that if he knew he wouldn’t want you anymore. After a few minutes like that, Yoongi finally noticed your body language. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He inquired gently. How were you going to explain this to him?

“I, um… I guess I kind of freaked out when you were talking about the plot being unrealistic… You were so sure it couldn’t happen that you were annoyed by it. And then I really didn’t know how to tell you that the plot line we were discussing is literally the same as me. I’ve never dated before, you’re the first… And when you kissed me for the first time, that was my first kiss.” You took a deep breath, having exerted a lot of energy to force out your words.

Yoongi’s eyes lit up in recognition, then guilt crept onto his features. “Baby no, I’m so sorry, I completely overreacted about the show. I shouldn’t have said all that. I never wanted to hurt your feelings.” Yoongi admitted sincerely. He could tell that you felt a little bit better after that reassurance.

"It’s not a bad thing to do things on a different timeline. Plus, I got the honor of being your first boyfriend because of it. Maybe I’ll be your last.” He said the last part quietly, smirking softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Hoseok:

One of your favorite things about Hobi was his open and energetic attitude. He was truly one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and it had felt easy to become close with him. You hadn’t been dating long at all, but the ease of conversation made it feel like you’d known each other for years.

On one particular day, the two of you were chatting over a dinner of your favorite delivery food. Hoseok was in the middle of a funny story about one of his exes, never one for unnecessary social boundaries or conventions, which was fine because you were laughing like crazy at the ridiculous tale he told. Then he continued, though, to tell (admittedly hilarious and absurd) stories about some of his other exes. You were entertained, certainly, though the number of people he seemed to have dated was a bit intimidating to you.

When he finally finished, he asked about *your* exes, and that was where the issue really started. You deflected, not wanting to directly bring attention to the fact that you had never dated before him. He became oddly persistent, seeming frustrated that you didn’t want to share. Not wanting him to misunderstand why you weren’t telling him what he wanted to know, you sucked it up and told him that he was your first boyfriend.

He was extremely surprised, but seemed to understand now why you had been reluctant to answer his questioning. He apologized for going on about exes for so long, and for inadvertently making you nervous. You assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, especially since the only important thing was your relationship moving forward, not either of your pasts.

Namjoon:

When you and Namjoon had only been together a few weeks (after a much longer friendship prior to your romantic relationship beginning), you were spending a nice chill evening at home, eating takeout and chatting. The two of you seemingly never ran out of things to talk about, one of the things you loved about being with him.

You don’t even remember what had led to it, but partway through the evening, he made some dumb joke about virgins and you visibly froze. You had yet to tell him about your lack of experience, and now you were terrified to. Was that really something he’d be bothered by? You hadn’t thought so, but his joking around about it made you doubt that. You did your best not to show your panic, paying unusually close attention to the glass of water you were drinking.

Unfortunately for you, your discomfort was completely apparent, and Namjoon asked you if you were okay. You nodded with a forced smile, making him frown, easily able to tell that you weren’t. You were afraid to tell him now because if it really bothered him that much, maybe it would disappoint him. Maybe it’d be a dealbreaker and he would lose interest in you. Unsure what to do, you stared at your hands, tense and worried. Namjoon lightly rested his hand on your shoulder, staring at you in concern. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” He implored gently.

At that moment you could no longer hold in your emotion, your fear, and tears began to leak from your eyes as you sniffled, starting to shake a bit as you cried. You let him pull you into his arms, holding you close as you tried to stop crying. After a few minutes of you trying to calm down, aided by Joon’s sweet behavior, he asked again what was wrong, insisting that you could tell him anything. Your chest felt tight, but you didn’t see a way out of sharing what had upset you.

When you explained what had happened, Namjoon felt horrible, cursing himself for having said something so dumb. He told you that it was just a stupid joke, not something he actually cared about, apologizing for upsetting you with his thoughtlessness. He made sure to assure you that it wasn’t a problem for him in the least, and that he was in no rush. Afterwards the whole situation seemed a little silly, though you remembered how genuinely panicked you had been only minutes before and shuddered. But things were immediately made better, the two of you snuggling up on the couch to watch a movie.

Jimin:

Your blossoming relationship with Jimin made you feel like you were walking on a cloud. He was incredibly sweet and so much fun to spend time with, you felt very lucky to be dating him now. Just to be sweet, you had picked up food from his favorite lunch place and were bringing it to him at the BigHit building, where he was currently busy at work in a practice room.

When you arrived, the door to the room was open, but you heard voices coming from inside. You only paused when you heard Jimin say your name. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and you were about to announce your presence until you realized what he was saying. “You know I really like her, man, I just feel so unsure right now. There has been like, zero physical affection up to this point, nothing beyond hugs and holding hands.” Jimin grumbled, sounding irritated.

Tae hummed in acknowledgement, pausing before inquiring “So obviously you’re frustrated, but what are you thinking about it?” Jimin sighed. “Maybe she just doesn’t like me as much as I like her. I don’t want to think anything bad about her, but what if she’s playing me? Like, she doesn’t have actual feelings for me.” He sounded very down, clearly hurt by the mere possibility. At that moment you were so shocked by what you were hearing, you accidentally dropped the bag of takeout, hurrying to pick it up, but you’d already drawn attention to yourself.

Jimin and Taehyung looked beyond shocked to see you, and you realized you were crying. Taehyung excused himself to let the two of you talk. You walked farther into the room, approaching the boys. “I thought we could have lunch… I know you don’t take enough breaks, and I really wanted to see you…” You admitted quietly, unable to actually make eye contact.

“I just feel so horrible, it’s all my fault that you don’t even know how crazy I am about you. I can’t believe…. I let you be unsure of how much I care about you. It’s my fault, I’m so sorry Jimin.” By the end of what you were saying, you were holding back full sobs. Seeing how distressed you were, Jimin wasted no time in rushing to you and pulling you into his arms, hugging you close.

When you’d finally calmed down and stopped crying, you thought you owed him an explanation. “The lack of physical affection isn’t because I don’t like you. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anybody. I’ve just… never done anything. I haven’t even been in a relationship before now, it’s all new to me.” You admitted, feeling Jimin stiffen in your hug.

When you pulled back to look at him, tears were welling up in his eyes. “Oh, I’m the worst…” He muttered, feeling so guilty. “I was just frustrated, I was feeling insecure. Now that I know, I don’t mind one bit waiting for anything until you’re ready.” He assured you, planting a quick kiss on your forehead as you nodded understanding.

Tae:

It had only been a few weeks since Tae had confessed his feelings to you and the pair of you had started dating. Long before that, you’d been close friends, so you had spent a lot of time together over time. During one of your first few movie nights as a couple, things slowly began to escalate between you. You were sitting close together, seemingly focused on the film, when Tae moved to put an arm around you, pulling you closer so you were snuggled up beside him.

His eyes never left the screen, but there was a telltale little smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes a little, but you certainly didn’t mind. Despite it being such a small thing, at this stage in your relationship, this was a little bit thrilling. Soon you could feel him staring at you, and you turned your head to look back at him. His face had gotten much closer to yours than you’d expected. “…Tae?” you whispered, seeing both affection and mischief in his eyes. “Yes love?” He replied quietly in his gorgeous low voice, making you shiver just slightly.

You shook your head almost imperceptibly, and before you knew it his lips were on yours. You froze, all of this being completely new and foreign for you. Feeling you stiffen and fail to reciprocate the kiss, Tae pulled back to look at your face, wearing an expression of concern. “Um, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have just… assumed you felt the same way…” He muttered nervously, not making eye contact. “No!” You exclaimed a little louder than you meant to, quieting your voice to a near-whisper before speaking again.

“No, Tae, I do feel the same way! I really, really do. I love you. I have since we were just friends. I… I want you too. Just, um, I don’t know what to do…. That was my first kiss just now and I kind of just panicked and froze.” You confessed, watching the surprise and then recognition cover his face. That was all it took to take his unsure expression back to a smug smirk. Knowing the power his voice held over you, he leaned in close to you to speak in your ear when he said “in that case, I think we need some practice, don’t you?” Oh boy.

Jungkook:

You had been seeing Jungkook for a couple of months now and it was more than apparent that he was smitten with you (and vice versa). He complimented you frequently, his heart eyes for you always clearly on display. The only problem was the way you practically jumped away from him any time he got close to you. He had definitely noticed your weird behavior, and though you didn’t know what to do about it, you knew it was only a matter of time until he brought it up in conversation.

When that moment came, you had just clammed up and pulled back from him when he tried to put his arm around you while watching a movie. When you saw his expression in reaction, you felt immensely guilty, seeing the hurt on his face. After a moment it shifted to extreme irritation, him clenching his jaw in annoyance. “What’s your problem? I can’t get anywhere near you without you freaking out and moving away in a hurry.” You couldn’t make eye contact anymore at that point, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you were filled with the fear that you had ruined things with him.

“I… I don’t really know why I keep doing that, it’s just all new to me. I’ve never dated anyone before you so I kind of don’t know what to do with myself most of the time.” You confessed, trying to mask the sniffle that you gave as the first tear rolled down your cheek. Now it was Jungkook’s turn to feel guilty. He approached you slowly, asking you to look at him in a gentle voice. When you did, you saw that the irritation was completely gone, replaced with remorse and fondness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I could have just asked like an actual adult rather than how I behaved. I guess I was just insecure, afraid that you don’t like me in the same way I like you.” He explained, and you nodded slightly in understanding.

“That’s not it at all! I really *really* like you. A relationship is just totally uncharted territory for me and I handled it wrong. I should’ve just told you.” You sighed, the heaviness leaving your heart as an adorable bunny smile grew on his face. “Uncharted territory, huh? Well let me be your travel guide. We can be explorers together.” You rolled your eyes at his dumb joke, but smiled in spite of how silly his words were. You felt like now, with it all out in the open, things could be good with the two of you.

a/n: Feedback please! <3 I love to hear from y'all!

#bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts ot7

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aryareyes · 3 years

Text

***

Title : The way your eyes burn my soul

Pairing : Gruvia

Summary : Surprise!

Spotlights were shinning brightly, illuminating the dark interview hall, but what set the hall on fire was the audience's energetic ovation.

At the center of the hall, the interviewer, a beautiful young woman was smiling ear to ear, in front of her, her guests of the day, the best duo of the Pop world were seated, delighted matching grins on their faces.

- " Welcome to Pep Talk! Today's a very special day for us because we've our favorite Pop duo, Gray and Juvia with us!!"

The crowd whistled and cheered again as the two stars bowed their head respectfully to the crowd.

- " Thanks Mira, it's our pleasure to be here." The raven haired man answered as he flashed a grin to the public, making girls squeal.

- " Gray's right! We're very happy to be here!" The blue haired girl added, clad in her navy cocktail dress.

Again the crowd cheered but it was mostly male public this time. Mirajane smiled at the public and shifted her attention back to the duo.

- " So, Gray, Juvia, first of all, Congratulations for your last album, Icy Waves. It's a mega huge success! But most importantly, your fans—no actually, people who I know that don't like pop are into it after listening to that album. How do you feel about it?"

The female artist waited for the applause to end before talking,

" We are really glad to hear that." She chuckled contently, a glance at her partner before trailing, "Gray and I worked hard on it...and it was our first album together so..."

- " She worked extra hard for it," Her partner added as she shook her head playfully glaring at him. He smiled as he added, " It was her idea, so Icy waves wouldn't be possible without Juvs here." He winked at the girl, earing a smile in return.

- " He's exaggerating, its our team work."

- " Of course not." He rolled his eyes in response.

Mira chuckled at their bunter eyeing them carefully. Let's get my very wanted scoop.

- "I'm sure your fans love your teamwork. Now, let's talk about this particular song..." she started grinning slowly, earning some whistles and the name of the single from the crowd.

- " Looks like they want the same... The way your eyes burn my soul..." The interviewer paused glancing at the young stars who's cheeks were flushing slightly—at least Juvia's—Gray was doing a great job hiding it.

Mirajane Strauss cleared her throat slightly, getting their attention.

" Your voices...the feel in the song is..." she sighed softly looking for the right word, "...Magic...How did that magic happen?" She asked sincerely.

- " You said it, magic. I guess magic happens in music." Gray answered cleverly, shrugging.

- " I think that answer is too vague Gray," Mira chuckled imploring him to continue.

Gray's lips tugged up as he slid in a more comfortable position on the couch.

- " Recently at your album's success party, there were rumors of the two of you dating, so is it safe to assume the magic wouldn't have happened without that?"

Juvia smiled softly, adorable rosy hues adorning her cheeks.

- " Yes, I think it wouldn't have been magic if there's no feel in it."

Gray's smile turned into something genuine as his eyes were fondly looking over his girl beside him.

- "Are we lucky enough to get more details about it then?"

- " it, here means song right?" Gray lifted an eyebrow playfully earning some chuckles.

- " Definitely the song, but Juvia mentioned something about feel." Mira retorted with a mischievous smile, "So, I'd say the magic of the song—or love."

Gray scoffed. The audience cheered louder.

No wonder she was known for the title of the sweet devil.

Nonetheless, he responded with a natural expression. Years of experience of being the center of spotlights learned him to keep his cool in any kind of situation. He knew to give what the public wants to hear without revealing too much about his personal life neither.

- " We've known each other for a very long time. We'd each other's back through the thick and thin of our careers...so our friendship turned into something more, and I'm truly happy with the change."

The crowd went crazy and Juvia blushed slightly. He looked at her with a soft smile who smiled back brightly. God, she's so beautiful. He thought.

- " Heard that you guys! We were right! Our lovebirds here are dating!" Mira exclaimed in delight—she's a gruvia shipper after all.—" I guess it's time to say—excuse me for my language— Fucking Finally! "

People erupted more into cheers and whistles and chanted their favorite pop stars' ship name. Once the audience calmed down, the interviewer started talking again.

- " Well honestly, almost everyone were shipping you two together since forever and your chemistry is just so perfect. We felt it in the song." She stated as the stars thanked her and their fans.

- " So, now that you got your answers and I've my scoop, let's move to the fun part, shall we?" She continued cheerful with a glance at the public.

- " I don't feel it." Gray stated frowning and Juvia laughed at it.

- " The game is called 'tas-quest.' It's very simple. I'll ask you both questions concerning your partner which you've to answer honestly. Same goes with the tasks."

The two of the nodded and proceeded to play the game.

- " Okay. First question is for Juvia. Who's Gray's crush?"

- " Ouch. You sure want our couple to last?" The said guy retorted with fake mock. "I don't have any other crushes than my girlfriend, right here." He blow a kiss in her way but Juvia hit his arm, glaring at him playfully.

- " Babe. What?"

She huffed with a grin and turned to Mira, " He's a crush on his childhood friend."

- " What?! That was years ago! I was eight! And she's married now, thank you very much." He crossed his arms with a huff.

- " It's still a crush." She argued back.

- " She's a point." Mira smirked as Gray glared at her.

- " Your turn, who's the most jealous between the two of you?"

- " Obviously Juvia." The male singer laughed though his companion she gasped offended at him.

Mira bit back a chuckle as she looked at the young couple in amusement. Juvia pointed a finger at her boyfriend, "You got jealous of a fan on our last concert."

Gray crossed his arms with a roll of eyes. " He was too close."

- " Because he wanted to take a photo." She retorted with a scoff.

- " Yeah right. He invaded your private space and I protected you being the charming boyfriend I am." Gray muttered under his breath, not loud enough for the fans to here but Juvia and Mira did. The latter smirked while the female singer rolled her eyes but allowed a smile.

He was too cute when he was jealous.—She thought endearingly. Without a word she placed her hand on the his that was resting in the bare space between them and caressed it to smooth him. It worked as he gave her a look and she smiled. He turned his aside fighting back a smile of his own.

The reporter cleared her throat to her their attention, "Moving on to the next quest—oh it's actually a task for Juvia." She set her gaze on the girl who hastily pulled her hand away.

- " Yes ?"

- " You've to admit to Gray three of your secrets concerning him that you never would have told him." That earned chuckles and whispers.

- " Now it's interesting. I'm all ears Juvs. " He crossed his arms in curiosity, a playful gleam in his eyes.

- " Oh god, tell me I've a joker." She groaned in response—"Nope." Gray and Mira said at the same time.

Juvia pouted, "If I tell him my secret then it's no more a secret."

The sweet devil giggled, " That's basically the point of the game." The girl pouted more but turned her body slightly to her partner who was looking at her amused.

- " I've always found you cuter when you're sleeping...because you're messy, relaxed and actually a kid." She smiled tenderly at him as his cheeks tinted slightly. Their fans cooed. "...So I may have or may not have snapped pictures of you while sleeping." It was her turn to blush as he recovered from his flustered state to smirk at her handsomely.

- " Will we get some of them? " Mira interrupted.

- " Absolutely not." Juvia chuckled, "They're mine." The young girls sighed heavily but grinned at their favorite couple.

- " Next secret Wat'drop." Gray raised an eyebrow challengingly.

- " I stole one of your hoodies a few months ago and got to know recently that it's your favorite since you went through your room for it." She admitted with a cute frown.

- " Wait. My Detective Conan?" He asked in disbelief. His girlfriend bowed her head. " Guilty." She looked up at him again, " You're mad?" He rolled his eyes at her cuteness. How could he be mad at her when she was looking like that?

Instead of giving her a verbal answer, he ruffled her hair affectionately. Juvia smiled and promised herself to find him the real one he was looking for—the one he had that she stole (because she missed him too much), was not the one he wanted originally. The stocks wore off as it was a limited edition and he got himself the closest thing to the original. So, she would buy him the one originally he wanted.

- " You guys are really cute together!!" Their interviewer squealed as she looked at them and the crowd agreed with her.

They thanked her and Juvia proceeded to the last secret with a groan. "Arghh...I can't believe I'm confessing this to you on a live show."

Gray's eyebrow lifted, " That much secret?" He frowned concerned, " You don't need to tell it."

Juvia shook her head, " No, I should play fair." She mumbled as she stared around at her fans and smiled at them. She then squeezed Gray's hand and locking her eyes on him.

- " I had a crush on you from the very first day I met you." Gray's eyes widened slightly, surprise written all over his face. They forgot they got a loud audience as he blinked at her.

- " Really?"

- " Really." She said softly. He leaned to her side, and kept his voice low. The public didn't notice their murmurs as they've gone wild since Juvia's confession.

-" I don't understand...you didn't like me back then..." He frowned. Juvia gave him a look that meant 'later'.

Mira cheered and turned to them,

" Thanks for playing fair Juvia! You're awesome!"

- " Well, it's almost time. I've a last..." She looked at the small card in her hand before looking back at Gray. " task for Gray."

- " Tell us three things you like the most about Juvia." A gentle smile crossed his features as he glanced at his girl before facing Mira.

- " I think the list is long but I'll keep it short..." He held a hand up, enumerating. " She's one of the most talented and dedicated person I know. Whether it's job or studies or other common things, once she gets into it, she's determined to finish it and gives her hundred percent in everything she does. She's a hard worker and I honestly think that's the reason of her success."

Juvia was touched by his words as she stared at the man she loved talking about her so highly and proudly. She knew why she loved him so much.

- " She's a very good friend—she's this kind of friend who you would call if one day you committed a murder and don't know what to do about it. She'll help you bury the body and get you safely out of the mess." Juvia along with others laughed at his statement.— "Not that I'm planning to murder someone." He added and Juvia laughed more, leaning into him before giving him a look that meant, 'call me if you do'.

- " I guess what I'm trying to say is, she's trustworthy and be there for you through thick and thin. The kind of friend everyone needs to have in their life and I'm grateful to have her in mine." He got everyone's heart with that—if he didn't already had—as they stared at him in awe.

Gray turned to Juvia and locked his eyes with hers as he was about to say his last one. " What I love the most about you is how you look at me. You look at me as if I was your world and you love me so freely and so...easily. You accept my imperfections and love me for myself and not because I'm a star..." He held her hand and pulled her up with him as she started tearing up despite trying hard to not cry. Gray smiled lovingly at her—the one he only reserved for her and never showed in public. " Thanks for loving me, Wat'drop."

Without minding the public—because she saw only him—she brought a hand to his face and he leaned in her touch still giving her that loving look. She smiled, her heart and mind racing as her whole being was consumed of an overwhelming love for the man standing before her. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his in a sweet, soft kiss that sent the room shaking in fan's wild ovation.

When the lovebirds departed from each other with matching grins, hands still intertwined, Mira almost fainted but managed to end the show with hearts in her eyes.

The young couple was in the back of Gray's car as they were been driven back to their respective homes. Juvia was asleep on his shoulder as he kissed her head and stroked her hair tenderly. She's been working on her new album for the past week when they just finished their album and even before the interview, she was asked in her studio. He knew that she barely had enough for the past months. Gray was grateful to his production house to be on vacation but it's not the case for Juvia. She's to work for at least a week or two before her own holidays. Thankfully, he would be still on holidays by that time, hence he'd already planned their vacation—It was a surprise for her.

Half an hour later, Gray was carrying his girl to his bed in his penthouse slowly to not disturb her sleep. He lied her gently on it and proceeded to take her heals off and stripped himself, leaving only his boxers before climbing up in the bed with her. Juvia almost immediately clung to him like a koala, her head placed on his chest, a leg on his and an arm across his stomach. With a soft smile, he wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her to him.

- " Are you sure you don't want to get comfortable before sleeping?" He whispered after a moment. She only tightened her hold on him. Gray rolled his eyes and ran a hand in her hair as he stared down at her.

- " I know you're awake Juvs."

- " Why didn't you change my dress?" Her voice was muffled due to her position as she buried her face in his neck. "I don't mind it. It's just you."

Gray's heart skipped a beat and he rubbed circles on her bare arms.

- " I respect you too much to take advantage of you while you're sleeping." He murmured.

She raised her head up with a yawn but gave him a sleepy smile. "Gray, changing my dress to make me comfortable on bed is not taking advantage of me. You're my boyfriend so it's basically your right." He returned her smile, tucking a strand behind her ear to stare into her beautiful blue orbs.

His smile turned soon into a gorgeous smirk. Oh boy. Juvia flushed and shivered in his hold as his hand pulled the straps of her dress slowly. His eyes were intense on her as he murmured, "Why, I don't have a problem stripping you Wat'drop." His fingers caressed her bare shoulders burning her skin as they went by. "In fact, I prefer you naked around me." His lips trailed from her ears to cheeks down her jaw and Juvia placed her hands on his chest to push back slightly to stare down at him with an adorable pout.

- " You're such a pervert." She murmured. He pecked her lips in response before looking at her innocently. " I'm using my boyfriend rights here." She hit his chest lightly with a soft frown that turned into a smile, wiggled out of his hold ignoring his protests.

- "Close your eyes boyfriend."

- " Nope." Gray grinned back as he found the perfect position to stare at her, his eyes trailing to her bare neck and shoulders as she held the dress to her chest.

Juvia glared at him for a moment and he held her stare before she shrugged. Gray's eyes widened as she let her dress fall and pool around her feet and stood before him, clad only in her undies. He openly gaped at her too surprised to react as he took her in.

Gray knew Juvia was beautiful. He's known her for almost six years now and he'd seen her in daring dresses before.—it was part of the job. But right now, she was actually standing in his room, in his arm length, only in her navy matching underwear. She was a goddess. Before he could even process what was happening, her hand was unclasping her bra and Gray hurriedly turned to the other side, cursing as Juvia's laugh filled the room.

He was a goner if he saw her naked. He wouldn't be able to not jump her after so Gray shut his eyes tight and pushing away the amazing vision he just saw into the back of his mind as he waited for the little tease of his girlfriend to finish changing.

A moment later the bed shook and her arms slipped around his torso from behind as she placed her face on his cheek. He felt her bare legs slipping on his and he knew that she was wearing his t-shirt. He could handle it. He'd already seen her in his clothes and she's very—Stop right there, Gray.

- " Comm'o look at me..." She chuckled, "...I'm not naked—

- " Shut up." He groaned. She placed a few kisses on his cheek with a smile and after a moment, he finally turned on his back. She smiled brightly at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

- " I love you." She whispered and kissed his jaw before tucking her face under his chin.

- " I love you too Wat'drop." He kissed her head squeezing her to him.

- " You said sweet things at the interview." She murmured.

- " I was being honest." He said as he caught her looking at him lovingly—as if he was her world. "And I meant every word." She was his world.

She hummed happily and closed her eyes. His arms were her safe, warm cocon. Her place.

-" Speaking of interview..." she lifted her head up in question, crossed her arms on his chest and placed her face on it, staring at his face. " You said something about crush." His lips tugged up and her own tugged hp in a slow smile under his curios gaze.

Juvia cupped his face with a hand and smiled adoringly down at him. " I had a crush on you in high school. Remember our first meet?"

He recalled it with a fond smile, " You fell on me with books dropping on us. There's so much dust and we started sneezing and the old librarian was yelling at us like a mad woman."

The blue haired girl chuckled happily. " Well, I guess I didn't only fell on you that day but also fell for you."

Gray's eyes widened, " You loved me back then?" His heart thumping against his chest and he was sure that she could hear it, judging by her smile.

- " I thought it was a crush at first. You were so handsome and—"

- " Were?" He raised a teasing eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. "—are and I just liked looking at you..." her eyes locked with his in a playful gleam. " That is until I knew that you were my rival in everything. Literally everything!" She groaned dropping her head on his chest. "It was so annoying. You always beat me in one point or just behind me in a point. So annoying!"

Gray snorted rubbing her back. " I was not used to have a competitor and I hated to lose." She mumbled before lifting her head to face him.

" You hate to lose too." He chuckled but didn't say anything letting her rant about how annoying it was to be constantly on war with him in high school.

- " But I loved bickering with you. I couldn't spend a day without bantering with you. Really." She looked up at him stroking his cheek. "Then, there's this project in our second year and we were partnered up."

- " We ended it, won the first prize." He murmured as she nodded eagerly. " We became friends during that period..." He trailed tracing his finger on her cheek.

- " We were already kinda friends—frenemies, I guess. I've always admired you. You were the first person I've ever met with so much determination to win." She whispered eyes closed.

- " Hmm, I liked you too. But too arrogant to admit it." She snorted at his statement.

- " Then best friends. We were inseparable by the end of high school..." Gray hummed a nod. " You supported me before my uncle to pursue music career."

- " It's because you were incredibly talented Wat'drop." He said sincerely. She smiled as his finger traced the form of her lips.

- " That's an exaggeration but thank you for the compliment." She opened her eyes to look at him, " Want to know something? " He rose an eyebrow, silently asking her to continue. "You were my inspiration to fight for what I want, to fight for my dream." She kissed his forehead gently, " I won't be here without you, Gray Fullbuster."

- " And I won't without you. You were my only family when things fell apart." He retorted as he recalled his dark period—when Ur died.

" You were my strength and my very reason to not give up." Her eyes glistened as his welled up, and she kissed his eyelids, lingering when lips there. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be in streets."

- " You had all our friends with you. We all had your back."

- " True. I'm grateful for them but you, Juvia, you're special. You held me together." She smiled tearfully.

- " You are special to me too. Always have been." He mumbled an 'I know' and rolled them over earning a surprised squeal from her as her back hit the mattress.

She stared up at him bringing him closer with her arms around his neck.

- " When did you know you loved me?" He asked gazing into her eyes.

- " Last year, when you were in your world tour." His love brushed the hair of his nape as he leaned his forehead against hers. " It started with little things. Like when I spent weekends in our friend's place watching movies and how you were not there to lean on or throw my legs on..." He grinned.

- " Then, we'd go to get a coffee and you weren't there to know that I don't add milk in my coffee. Then, I started missing your voice. I'd call you and couldn't get you so I would listen to your voicemail to hear your voice."

He leaned back to look at her apologetic, his being bursting with love for her. " Sorry about that. You know we barely have our phones on world tour."

- " I know, don't worry about it. But I yearned to hear your voice." He kissed her nose and lips in response.

- " By the time you were back, I knew I was madly in love with you and I couldn't imagine a life without you."

He could feel the love in her voice as she said it.

- " You aren't kidding—you practically choked me to death when you hugged me once you saw me in the airport." He teased with a grin.

- " Yeah well, I just realized I loved my best friend for years and you weren't there for eight moths. I wanted to lock you in a room and never let you go away from me."

- " It's creepy." He grinned.

- " You wouldn't have minded would you—wait why're you grinning?"

His grin widened and she held his face up and forced his eyes to hers. A moment in silence passed between them. Both of their hearts beating in sync as the realization settled over.

Juvia worded it slowly.

- " You loved me." Her tone was barley a whisper as she remained their eye lock.

- " I've loved you for a long time Wat'drop. A very very longtime that I denied and fought back my feelings."

- " Why?"

- " Because I've just lost Ur. And I've lost everyone I've loved. You, losing you...was unimaginable... I was terrified that my feelings will take you away from me so I fought them back to keep you with me. "

- " You wouldn't have lost me if you made a move earlier, Gray." She took a breath, " I've always denied my feelings for you as a crush and admiration until I really couldn't lie to me anymore..."

Gray sighed in response, "We we're both idiots huh..." She groaned, " We wasted years! We could've been together while we were still in Uni!"

Gray looked up at her, " Hey, we're together now and we've always loved each other without knowing so we're good." He shrugged and pecked her lips as she still had her pout on.

- " I'm a bit worried you...we are no more high school kids. We are popular now, successful stars in industry. And we're dating." Her voice dropped as she looked at him, " Going in public, was it a bad idea?"

- " Do you regret it?" He brushed away her hair, and she shook her head. "I'm just concerned about what it could do to our relationship...as much as I love my fans, when it's comes to their favorite celebrity's love life, they'd go crazy. Especially when two celebrities are dating. They don't see the fact that under the mask of popularity, it's two normal people with feelings and we can't really fault them." Her eyes started stinging as she stared at him. "I can't lose you, Gray."

He quickly reassured her pulling her in a tight hug. " You won't lose me." He pulled back slightly despite her pressure to stay like that. He stared into her eyes, " Didn't you say that I'm the most determined person you know?" A nod, "Juvia, I fight for what I want. " He lifted her chin up. " I'll always fight for you." He swore.

- " Promise?" Her tone was frail, and he smiled at her. " Promise. And you promise to fight for me?"

- " Always."

She brought a hand between them, holding up her little finger, He wrapped his around it and smiled when he saw their tattoos matching as their fingers locked together. Juvia dragged him to the tattoo parlor past midnight to get it in their half drunken states a few weeks ago. It was on the day of the success party of their first album together, Icy Waves. So they got themselves tattooed a drop of water on his finger and a snowflake on hers.

There's no ice without water and no water without ice. And Gray would be damned if he didn't keep that promise.

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

💧❄️ Happy Belated Gruvia day! ❄️💧

#gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia #fairy tail #gruvia fanfiction #grey fullbuster #fairytail100yearquest

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honeytae · 3 years

Text

Stop running from love.

hey bubs! honestly..i don’t know what this is lol it kind of got away from me. but it’s loosely based off of safety net by ariana grande. which is like one of my favorite songs in existence. i hope you guys like this angsty little piece of nothing?? lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @jjlovr2015 genre: angst, fluff? word count: 2.2k

if you would like to listen, here it is:

You were doing it again.

Sabotaging yourself. Running away. Ghosting a man who had only ever shown you the utmost care and respect.

He’d already called multiple times today, frantic texts showing that he was now beyond worried at the way you’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.

You couldn’t blame him. You’d been exclusively dating for three months. Three beautiful and happy months alongside a great guy whose smile brightened every room he graced with his precious presence. Three months that you’d been able to not go into a panic about that very concept.

Until you fell.

The last time you’d seen Jimin was last week when he’d met with you after work for a quick bite to eat.

It was the same place you always went to; you didn’t even have to ask where you were meeting anymore, already on your way to the booth in the back corner with a stupid grin on your face.

The checker floored diner had become a regular spot for you two to stop at, as it was in the middle of the city and perfectly placed between both of your jobs.

That quick bite to eat had easily turned into a full dinner, along with a dessert that’s whipped cream ended up on the tip of his nose in an instant, your giggles causing him to grin wider as he played dumb.

It was simple, not extravagant or fancy by any means, but that was never needed with him. You always had so much fun with Jimin. He was gentle, sweet, caring. All the right things.

And it was when he was walking you back up to your apartment, his hand gripping yours in a way that was soft yet secure, sparkling eyes pressing into crescents when he smiled over at you that you came to a stunning realization; you were falling in love with him.

With a panicked last press of your lips to his cheek, you’d closed your door, leaning back against it as you stared ahead of you, absolutely paralyzed in the silence of your apartment.

You could not be in love. What even is love? Heartbreak, that’s what it is. One way or another, it will always end. You needed to pull back before you got too invested. But, fuck, was it too late?

Erupting into hysterics as you came to terms with what had to be done to protect both yourself and Jimin, you slid your back down the wood, placing your forehead on your knees as you curled up into yourself.

Since then, you’d made it your mission to put him off, every text going unanswered and each call going to voicemail.

And now here you were in your bed in the early hours of the afternoon, shades drawn to encase the room in pitch black. It matched your mood, frustrated and angry with yourself as you cried into your pillow.

You hated yourself for doing this to him. Shutting him out with no explanation; he deserves more than you. In the end, this was to his benefit. He’d go on to find someone worthy of his companionship, someone who didn’t want to disappear at the concept of love.

Someone with less baggage to drag along with them, someone who had a healthy idea of relationships and wasn’t shattered at their core.

While it was painful to ignore him without giving a reason, you knew he’d give up on you eventually. Everyone always did, and it was just for the best.

You hiccuped another sob as your phone buzzed on the table yet again, grabbing the pillow from beside you to sandwich your head between the mattress and the fluffy material, effectively muffling the noise of the vibration as you screwed your sore eyes shut.

“Love?”

You froze at the sudden unmistakable sound of Jimin’s voice calling for you, head spinning as you shut your eyes tighter.

Were you imagining Jimin’s voice beside you? Were you that far gone?

You were proven wrong when the blanket was pulled off of your body, cold air hitting the bare skin of your arms as the pillow was removed from atop your head.

You gasped at the sudden exposure, prying your eyes open to look up at none other than Jimin, the hurt and worried look on his face immediately causing you to sob again.

“Shit, baby, come here.” He rushed to sit down beside you, you easily crawling onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back, palm smoothing up and down your spine as he slowly rocked you back and forth.

You sat there silently, letting yourself be comforted by him. For some reason, Jimin was harder to push away than the others. His arms felt so nice around you, like home.

But this had to be done. You wanted him to stay like this in your memory, his image remaining undamaged by any painful breakup.

“Jimin, I-I can’t see you anymore. We can’t be together.” You forced out, heart twisting in agony at the silence ensuing after your words, Jimin shifting you up his lap to look at you.

“What do you mean?” He asked in disbelief, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes widened, you shaking your head instead of giving him a verbal answer due to the growing lump in your throat at his undeniably heartbroken expression.

“We just can’t, Jimin.” You said lamely, your tight grip on his arm contradicting your words as his mouth gaped open at you.

“Wh- what’s wrong? What did I do?” He asked desperately, causing you to sob harder at him blaming himself for this.

“It’s not you, Jimin. You’re amazing, you deserve a better person.” You sniffled, Jimin immediately pulling a face of further confusion as he shook his head to dismiss your words.

“A better- what are you talking about?” He asked, chasing your eyes as you chose to divert them to stare at the blank wall in front of you.

“You deserve someone amazing just like you, Jimin.” You mumbled, the man sitting there in silence before he shifted off of the bed, making you think you’d finally pushed him away.

The feeling of his weight being removed from the bed both pained and relieved you, happy for him to be able to move on now, but sad at that same idea.

But you were taken by surprise when Jimin kneeled on the floor in front of you, forcing you to look at him as he reached up to hold your chin, eyes imploring yours to be more upfront with him.

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. What are you talking about?” He repeated his question, silence lingering in the air at the words as you sat anxiously plucking the sheets below you with your fingers.

“Baby.” He called for you, his hurt tone causing your nose to scrunch up with more tears, his thumbs catching the salty water as his expression became more pained by the second.

“Let me in. Please, just let me in.” He pleaded with you, voice soft yet firm as he watched you break down in front of him, heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of losing you from his life because of whatever insecurities you were not telling him about.

“I’m fucking broken, Jimin. You don’t want to be let in, believe me.” You said, voice weak and wavering from the emotions bubbling up in your throat, shaky from the nights of no sleep you'd gotten in the last week.

“Yes, I do. I’d accept all of you if you just gave me a chance.” He gripped your hands with his, intertwining your fingers to give a reassuring squeeze.

Staring at him, you did not know what to say. Nobody had ever pushed back on your walls like this. They accepted it, moved on, and lived a better life without you in it. You just wished Jimin would do the same.

But he was fighting you on it. Fighting you on something you didn’t even want to do in the first place.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And that fucking terrifies me.” You explained shakily, concentrating on the feeling of Jimin’s palm running up and down your arm.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, either. It’s new, of course it’s scary. But I care about you, I want you, I miss you. I don’t want you to shut me out.” He said softly, his honeyed voice soothing you enough to make eye contact with his gentle brown orbs.

It was silent as you stared at each other, fear in his eyes and the same reflecting in your own. Studying his features, your heart twisted at his uncharacteristically dark circles, realizing he was probably running on the same amount of sleep you were at the moment.

“I don’t know where to go from here.” You sniffled, Jimin tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his glassy eyes stared back at you.

Feeling confident enough to stand from the floor and sit beside you on the bed, he let you guide him up against the headboard, resting your backs on it as you let out a sigh.

“Stop pushing me away. Stop running from love.” He responded, his words sounding so genuine that you nearly burst out into tears again.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing your temple on his shoulder as his arms encircled your torso.

“I want to be with you.” You admitted in a hoarse whisper, head throbbing as you rested your weight on Jimin, body giving out in exhaustion as he held you to him, delicate as if you’d break. Hell, maybe you would.

“Me too.” He said without missing a beat, eagerness evident in his tone as you let your aching eyes fall shut.

“I just don’t know how.” You sighed, the man humming in response as he threaded his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We can figure it out together, okay? I don’t want to throw in the towel. Not without at least a little bit of a fight.” He joked, the heavy mood in the room being lightened a bit at the sound of your exhaled laugh.

You lifted your head to look at him, opening your eyes to meet his own in the dark room, barely able to make out his features as the sun must have gone in behind the clouds outside your bedroom.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, Jimin. I’m a mess. If you want to run, go now.” You spoke seriously, one corner of the man’s lips lifting as he bit down on his cheek, a habit you’d picked up early on as behavior he exhibited when he was hesitant to say something.

“Listen, I’m a mess too. This is nothing.” He reassured you, your eyes studying his features as he seemed to express a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before with him.

“Trying to break up with you because of my own baggage and insecurities? That’s nothing?” You asked with a humorless chuckle, causing the man to reach out for your hand, sighing out a breath of relief when you let him lock his fingers around yours again.

“Well, I guess that in itself is something.” He shrugged, shuffling to hover over you as your red eyes met his.

“But I will always fight for you. You’re worth fighting for.” He said firmly, your eyes becoming glassed over again before you picked your head up off the pillow to catch his lips in a kiss, your palms sliding to the back of his neck as his plush lips worked over yours.

Sensing your emotions, he pulled back only slightly to press his lips over your closed eyelids, the tender action causing your frown to deepen as you gazed up at the sweet man.

“I’m not going to leave you. Whatever’s been done to you in the past, I’m not a repeat of that. I would never do anything to hurt you, I promise.” He said softly, his words seemingly making your heart alive again as it began to pound rapidly in your chest.

And with that, you threw caution to the wind. Even if he broke your heart, you couldn’t stop that from cutting your experience with him shorter than it had to be.

Because Jimin was the softest, sweetest, most lovable man you’d ever met. He showed time and time again that he cared about you, that he wasn’t like the others. And to give him up just because of some bad past experiences was just not worth it.

“I trust you.” You whispered, almost scared to let the words fall from your lips, but relieved when you saw the wide smile on Jimin’s face.

“I trust you, too.” He said softly, tracing his finger over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you again, laying down beside you to spoon your body with his, pressing his lips against your shoulder in a soothing action.

Laying in his arms, you felt more at peace than you’d felt in days. Being back in his embrace, you felt like you could breathe again, easily falling into much needed sleep with his warmth pressed to your back, his arms looped around your body as he pressed tender kisses to the shell of your ear.

Jimin was your home. And it felt so good to be home.

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

This is so utterly stupid but I have a few HC’s about Muslim Dabi(again obv this isn’t canon I just think it’s funny)

-Dabi would def be the type of Muslim dude who claims to be super religious cuz he never eats pork and “goes to the mosque to pray”(which is actually just code for hitting a blunt in the back of the parking lot w Hawks and Shigaraki💀), but yet smokes^^ and still has hella sex with like every other girl who bats her lashes at him from across the dining hall

-he also is a big cat lover, he claims since the Prophet Muhammad had cats of his own it’s sunnah to keep one

-on Eid namaz he’s the most dripped out one at the session, I’m talking black kurta dress, nice ass watch, slicked back hair...but funny enough, no one has actually seen him in line for the prayers themselves

-if he were back at home with the rest of the Todoroki’s, he’d most definitely be THE MOST spoiled one. Fuyumi would get on his ass for not cleaning the dishes, but he’d wave her off and tell her it’s training for her to be a better housewife for her future husband(cue a soapy sponge thrown at his head)

-Snitches.Constantly. Bro like this dude catches Shoto on his phone when he’s supposed to be doing a dua? Boom, instant callout followed by a long ass lecture about how he’s straying away from his religion and how he’s going to hell just because he spent one measly moment on his device instead of praising da lord

-Hes also always telling fuyumi to cover up her sleeves that come just a bittt before her wrists, claiming that she’s showing too much skin(especially when Hawks is over, that fucker’s got his eyes on every single one of his family members). But she’s quick to point out his secret tattoos, piercings, and hair dyes. He just scoffs and pulls the “women were created lesser than men so it’s okay for me to act a fool but not for you” card🙄stg I can’t stand him

-Since he’s the closest to Natsu, he’s always giving Eid money to him the most. The dude will slouch against his favorite brothers’ door, watching him play 2K. “What do you want?” Natsu asks with no real malice, not taking his eyes off the changing screen, furiously clicking away on his controller. “Mom says you gotta iron your clothes, Fuyumi’s doing her own so she can’t do yours as well. Oh, and Eid Mubarak by the way.” Natsu pauses him game and stands to stretch his arms above his head, groaning at the tendons popping in place on his back. “Yeah man, you too-what’s that?” He points to a fat parcel in Touya’s hand. The white-haired boy grins and chucks the bulging package at him, which Natsu catches easily. His eyes widen when he tears open the cream-colored paper envelope and reveals dozens of bills exceeding the usual 5-10$ family limit. “Yo, what-how-thanks Touya!” He sputters, throwing the package on his bed and throwing an arm around his brothers’ back in a man-hug. Touya rolls his eyes and barely suppresses a smile at Natsu’s excitement,(something he’s always wanting to be the source of) pounding his back to let go before he asphyxiates. He lets go and Touya smirks before heading towards the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d thank Sho-turd as well while you’re singing my praise.” Natsu stops in his tracks and looks suspiciously at the withdrawing slender figure. “Why?”. Touya’s voice is distant as he moves to close and lock his door. “‘Cuz it’s his money after all.”

-The two brothers are always waking up at Sehri the earliest in Ramadhan, just so they can scarf down a majority of the food in the fridge and go to sleep without having to interact with the rest of their family at sunrise. And in the case that their family DOES wake up in time to see them chomping down food made for a WHOLE FAMILY and not just two boys, Touya is quick to grab his keys and jacket and cackle that him and Natsu are going to iHop to eat some more. Natsu ofc is quick to follow pursuit, throwing an apologetic grin towards his parents and other siblings.

-When they’re at the mosque and Enji has somehow bullied him enough to sit the hell down and actually ATTEND the lectures for once, Touya still has one up his sleeve. Planned out strategically, he always simpers to Rei that he wants to donate to the mosque, causing her eyes to water and a handful of cash thrown his way, her voice wobbly as she praises her son for actually taking the foundations of his religion seriously. Unbeknownst to her however, this just means that he’ll take a little bit more than he gives. Hawks will be standing at the front of the hall, bowing his head and using his silver tongue to graciously thank the many men and women who come forth to drop their allowance into the money basket. When he sees his best man approaching, he has to stop the smug grin from reaching his ears, instead slanting his brows and holding the basket out to the now black-haired thief. “Glad to see you’re taking eternal damnation seriously, for once,” Keigo flashes his perky whites and Dabi drops Rei’s money into the donation basket, dipping his hand a little lower for a second. “Glad to see you’re still standing here like some busboy peasant, as usual,” he fires back, the two boys catching each other’s eyes and stifling their cackles as the patched hand withdraws, a copious amount of bills in his hand, more than what he put in.

-100% steals shoes. Usually you hear about older men doing this, but age aint nothin’ but a number to Dabi, baby. “Nice kicks,” he nods to a boy Natsu’s age, noting the blue and black minimalist patterns adorning the shoes. The boy recognizes Dabi as one of the most revered figures at the mosque (and the most featured by adults. Who’d want their kid hanging out with the eldest Todoroki as an influence?) and bobs his head excitedly, spewing out the manufacture and release dates of the shoes. Dabi looks at the fanboy amusedly, continuing to lean against the shoe rack as more people crowd around and start to push the boy inside. “See you later Dabi!” The eccentric kid calls out as he’s pushed into the hall by grumbling uncles. The ravenette snickers fo himself, “Yeah, but you won’t be seeing these shoes anytime soon.”

-A notorious playboy in the community. Uncles glare at him, unable to scold him outright for his shenanigans due to his father’s close presence, and aunties steer their children away from him at dinner parties. Speaking of, Dabi’s at a dinner right now. He’s lighting up a joint in amongst 3 mesmerized girls sitting on the floor in front of him and 2 jealous dudes his age in a locked room, away from all the screaming little kids. “Wow Dabi, doesn’t it burn?” The youngest of the three girls asks him with imploring eyes. He smiles a charming smile down at her and he thinks he sees the other two swoon. “Nah, sweetheart, you get used to it after a little while. Don’t be like me though, keep yourself pure and clean,” he shoots a wink at them and they giggle, faces turning red. The other two boys sitting at the far end of the bed scowl at his successful flirting, but Dabi doesn’t care for any of them, honestly, they’re just target practice. Right as he inhaled the fumes of another puff, a little body throws itself at the door, banging its fists on the wood. “It’s time for food!” They all jump at the intrusion and chuckle as the intruder runs away, containing to scream about food being served. The group gets up to leave and exits through the door, but Dabi takes his time. He wasn’t done with his joint, and he has to waft the smell away anyways when he leaves. He’s opening a window to let out some air when he heads a soft shuffle from behind him. “Shows over guys, go eat-“ but when he turns around, the oldest girl of the three stands before him, fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. “Um, Dabi? I know you said not to try it out by ourselves so...I was wondering if you could-if you could teach me how...?” She looks at the half-used roll in his hand, and he looks from the blunt to her face. He looks behind her. A closed door. Perfect. Taking a step forwards, he relishes in how she takes a hesitant step back, the breath in her throat catching but she still doesn’t back down. She looks to him like he’s a god, and he feels like one right now. And so he steps closer until she’s backed against the wall, his lids lowered to her wide ones, and he placed a hand next to her head. “Didnt your mom ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” He ghosts by the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “She never told me the strangers would be this hot,” and he has to laugh a bit at her tenacity. He pulls away and flops back on the bed, signaling for her to join him. “Well come one then, I’m hungry, better hurry up before I change my mind.” And 5 shotguns later, Dabi barely wipes off her bright pink lipstick from his face and straightens his kurta along with his hair before bounding down the steps, eager for food. At his command, she comes down a minute after him as to not cause any suspicion, but it doesn’t stop Rei from shooting him a knowing glare from the living room as he piles his plate with food. He shoves a veggie roll in his mouth as he turns to join the boys in the dining area, but his path is blocked by a large woman. “I know you’re up to no good. The children told me what funny smell was coming from the room upstairs, and I know you’re to blame, Touya Todoroki. I respect your mother a lot so I won’t make a scene here-“ he interrupts her, mouth half full with a roll, “-I mean, you already kinda are,-“ but she continues her tirade. “-I don’t think you’re a good influence on these kids, especially your siblings. What self respecting family would be okay with their son acting like a hooligan, having piercings, smelling like weed?” He smirks and swallows before swerving around her. “I don’t know Aunty, why don’t you ask your daughter? She didn’t seem to mind my, ah, influence.”

-When they were all younger, there was a time where End*avor wanted the boys the toughen up a bit and stop messing around so much. He brought the family up to the mountains in a nice cabin, purposefully choosing an area with farms nearby. It was around the time of Eid-e-Adha, so naturally goats and sheep’s were going to be sacrificed for the family feast. Touya already knew what was going on, so Enji left it up to him, a scrawny preteen boy to take over the initiation. Fuyumi wanted to come to the farm too, but Touya glared at her and told her to stay home because “girls are too emotional for this.”(he really did think that, but above all he held a secret soft spot for his only younger sister). Natsu and Touya both started heading down to the field to pick out a goat, and ofc little Shoto wanted to come along to. He begged and begged for his older brothers to bring him along and to not leave him at home for once, and with a sly glance to Natsu, Touya relented. He leaned down to Shoto’s eye-level and asked with serious eyes, “You sure?”. Shoto nodded eagerly, standing straight up as to look more solemn and mature. Natsu held back a snicker and grabbed Shoto by the collar as they dragged him out to the pasture. Oh, the little boy was in heaven among the bleating sheep and fluffy coats. “Go ahead, pick one out!” Touya said eagerly, nodding to the clueless toddler to choose a sacrificial sheep. And so the heterochromatic child pointed to one, looking to his big brothers for assurance, to which they gave an excited nod. Shoto yelped with glee and spent the rest of the afternoon frolicking with the soon-to-be-mutton chops, completely oblivious to its grim fate and creating a bond with the animal. So when it was finally sunset and the time came to start preparing for the feast, Touya walked over leisurely to Shoto, pushed the grubby hand away from the animal’s collar, and started pulling the creature towards the chopping block. “W-what’re you doing?” Shoto asked uncertainty. “Well, we gotta eat, right? Thanks for picking out such a fat sheep, ‘wonder how it’s gonna taste,”. The eldest grinned with malice at his youngest brother, who started to sniffle and ball his fists. “You’re lying! Leave it alone!” He cried out. “Nope, m’not lying, ask Natsu.” Natsu turns to Shoto and shrugs his shoulders without any real regret. “You’re the one who wanted to come along, right? Think of how proud dad will be of his favorite-he finally sacrificed his first sheep!”

-the first time he was ever asked to lead the namaz, Keigo and Tomura kept kicking the back of his legs so he would fall over while trying to recite the prayers, and in turn he’d immediately whip around in the middle of the whole damn hall and shoot fire at the two howling boys. Needless to say, he was never asked to read again

(one would think since Dabi knows sooo much about being a gOoD mUsLim and how to follow the rules he’d take some of that advice HIMSELF)

#dabi #dabi headcanons #touya #touya headcanons #muslim mha #mha headcanons #touya todoroki #mha crack #bnha #mha #bnha dabi #mha dabi #mha toya #bnha touya

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antihero-writings · 3 years

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WOOHOO IT'S CHASSEUR DAY!!

This is a fic I started for this prompt on my ph and vnc blog, which I finally got around to finishing today for @phmonth2021's vnc countdown, Day 5: The Chasseurs!

Since the prompt helps explain a bit of why the story is the way it is, I'll include it here!

"But I also agree, Roland & Olivier are two characters that would be really fun to explore. What are they doing when they break out of chasseur mode? I find it amusing that Olivier is so popular with the ladies but can't be bothered by all that. Heh!"

Thank you @adriisamused so much for this prompt!! <3 <3 And once again, I'm sorry it took so long.

I'm honestly really proud of this fic, and I had such much fun with it!! I really hope you all like it!! I'd absolutely love to hear it if you do!!

Lastly, if you enjoyed this, please please don't hesitate to send me more prompts/asks--for anyone in vnc or ph, but especially for these two!! I love writing for them. You can either send them here, or to my ph and vnc blog @this-idiots-left-eye.

Thanks so much for reading!! Reblogs and comments are especially appreciated!! <3

Olivier was having a perfectly satisfactory morning. His coffee smelled just the right shade of black, and was scalding hot—just as he liked it. He brought a book he’d been hoping to read for a while, but hadn’t had the time for recently. He lit a cigarette, and—whatever anyone else said—the smoke was as decadent as any sweet treat from a pastry shop. He was just opening up said book, just bringing the mug to his lips when—

“OLIVER!”

Oliver didn’t jump. Didn’t shout or otherwise react in surprise at the sudden disruption to his morning. Instead, very slowly, he closed the book, very carefully he set down his coffee. He lifted the cigarette and took a long drag, blowing out a substantial wisp of smoke.

And he silently regretted (for what was probably the eightieth time) telling Roland where his favorite coffee shop was.

Roland presently was running up to him, dragging behind him a dazed looking old man, and successfully made it to him by the time he finished his drag.

“Olivier! This poor man has lost his parakeet! He’s looked everywhere and he just can’t find Monsieur Butterbeans! Code blue! Code blue!

“…You know that’s for hospitals, right?”

“Well red just didn’t seem high enough! The situation is dire!”

Olivier blinked, eyes lidded. “Go look for it.”

“Oh Olivier! This simply isn’t a two person job! Two sets of eyes isn’t going to be enough! We simply cannot scour all the skies by ourselves!”

And he was having such a good morning.

“You think I want to spend my afternoon giving myself a crick in the neck?” Olivier asked.

Roland leaned in closer. “I think you want to spend the afternoon helping one of God’s lambs who is in need.” When Olivier stared at him Roland sighed. “If you help...I might just be inclined to work extra hard tomorrow.”

Olivier leaned to the side to look at the old man, who was staring up at the sky, not seeming too bothered. “Where did you lose it?”

“He lost her at the docks!” Roland jumped in—(quite literally jumped in front of him)—and answered for him.

After taking an extra second to try to calculate why a parakeet called ‘Monsieur’ was a ‘she,’ he spoke, perfectly monotone, “So go to the docks.”

“You think we haven’t already tried that! We searched everywhere! She was nowhere to be found!”

“Well if you’ve already searched everywhere—” He began to take another sip of coffee.

“Oh come now, Olivier!” Roland took his arm and shook him, making him both spill some coffee on the table, as well as cough coffee. “What kind of Chasseurs would we be if we gave up helping one of God’s children after one measly search? We’re more determined than that!” He curled his hand into a fist, his eyes sparkling. “Remember the story of the lady and her coins?” He was practically dragging him out of his chair now.

“I don’t think Jesus was talking about parakeets.”

“It’s a parable Olivier, it can be about parakeets if it’s applicable!”

Rather than arguing with him (like he was very much inclined to do) Olivier took another drag from his cigarette and sighed out smoke. “Let me finish my coffee.”

“But Olivier, Monsieur Butterbeans could be halfway up the Seine by now!”

“Let me. Finish. My coffee.” Olivier enunciated each word, staring intently at Roland as he lifted the coffee to his lips.

Roland sighed, and sat down across from him, gesturing to the old man to sit next to him, he obeyed diligently, like he was a pet himself.

Roland folded his hands on the table, and stared at him, with big, imploring eyes, the entire time. Others would have found this more than mildly intimidating, and incentive to drink faster. But Olivier drank his coffee at an ordinary pace, if a little slower than usual. After he was finished he set it down, paid, and left.

If this day was going to be as long as he thought it would be, he wanted to experience it on a full head of caffeine.

They indeed spent all the noon, and half the afternoon searching for her. Olivier tried his best not to look up too much (due to the aforementioned neck-crick potential), but with Roland taking the opportunity every few minutes to slap them both on the shoulders, then point upwards, and shout at shadows, and oddly placed light fixtures, and decorations, “IS THAT HER?!” he couldn’t help looking up.

It was never her.

At one point he was convinced she was nesting in a lady’s hat.

That was also not her.

They had decided to go by the park, and Olivier was just asking why the old man deigned to call a female parakeet “Monsieur” and before the old man could respond, Roland shouted:

“THAT’S HER!”

Olivier, sure it was another false alarm, turned his head with an exasperated sigh building in his throat.

But there was indeed a pretty little parakeet sitting there.

This whole time they thought they would find her nestled in the rafters of some house, or perched on a shop roof, or sign. They had been hoping she wouldn’t find herself too high for them to even see (though Roland had made them climb up building staircases and onto their roofs more than twice).

But there she was, nestled comfortably, not in a tree or on a roof, but on the shoulder of a woman.

More accurately, a mime.

Monsieur Butterbeans was sitting on the shoulder of a mime, and seemed to be having a perfectly pleasant time (ignore the rhyme).

“I mean that simply must be her, right?!” Roland turned to the old man.

The old man nodded vigorously.

Roland’s whole face lit up (though his face was always lit with a sort of angelic glow, so this was a bit of a Moses-and-Mt-Sinai situation) and he was running towards her before they could say a word.

“Salut, Mademoiselle! May I say, you are looking lovely today!”—She waved her hand as if to say, ‘oh stop’—“I simply must thank you!”—She gave an over-exaggerated expression of delight—“That parakeet on your shoulder? She belongs to my friend over there!” He pointed a finger at the old man with the speed and rigidity of a compass needle. “He lost her early this morning!” Roland turned around and was about to march victoriously back, “So thank you so much for—!”

She pretended to make a lasso and swing it around Roland. Even though it was made of nothing more than air, Roland was pulled back.

Olivier put his face in his palm.

He didn’t like mimes on the best of days. They were quiet, which would potentially be a nice quality... if it weren’t for that quietness being, not a means for peace, but rather something to make their interactions with normal-human-beings all that much more frustrating and difficult to discern. And their games with empty air seemed but another reason to disrupt the days of normal natural-world abiding people. They were like vampires…except they couldn’t actually see anything beyond this world, and couldn’t actually alter anything, and they were much more annoying to deal with.

And this one was proving, (as mimes generally did), unable to let them get away without participating in her little farce.

He had a theory that mimes weren’t really there to entertain normal people, rather normal people were there to entertain mimes.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Roland asked.

She held her hand up, and bent her fingers a few times as if to say she would like payment.

“You want a reward?” Roland seemed more than slightly affronted at this. The thought that anyone wouldn’t do a good deed out of the goodness of their heart was nothing short of diabolical to him.

The mimette made several hand motions which, while confusing at first seemed to be her way of conveying that she wasn’t asking for much (Olivier thought that would remain to be seen).

She pondered for a moment with a hand to her chin and squnched up face. Her eyes grazed over the old man, (who had his hands clasped in front of him in a pleading motion), and Olivier (who had folded his arms over his chest, and decided to look away when she looked at him). When he looked back, she was pointing at him.

She pointed at him, then she tapped her finger to her cheek.

Olivier didn’t need an interpreter to understand what that meant.

He recoiled, his voice going low and tense, “I would…prefer another method.”

It’s not like he didn’t know how to kiss a woman, (he’d done a lot more than kiss more than one woman), but this was just—

“Oh it’s just one little kiss, Olivier!” Roland waved his hand. “Do it for Monsieur Butterbeans!” (Monsieur Butterbeans decided to take this opportunity to do the important job of pooping on her shoulder).

Well someone ought to do it.

The mime did the lasso trick again, this time with Olivier. Olivier decidedly did not play along, but she was clearly well-versed in the ways of unparticipatory students, and happy to use the invisible rope to pull herself towards him. (Roland looked delighted with the show).

She got uncomfortably close, put her hands behind her back and presented her cheek.

Olivier looked away, his arms still folded.

Roland still found a way to get in his line of sight, and gave him the thumbs up.

The mimette stood on her tiptoes and blinked her eyelashes repeatedly. She might have been pretty, but who could tell under all that disgusting makeup? ( …Which Olivier did not want on his lips).

“This is ridiculous.” He grunted. “There are other ways to—”

“It’s just one little kiss Olivier!" Roland repeated. "She seems a perfectly nice lady! She deserves it!”

Olivier was not going to humiliate himself for a parakeet, who seemed to rather like this mime anyways.

“Remember, I might just be inclined to work harder tomorrow!”

Olivier sighed, still not looking at her.

“Fine, if you can’t do it, I’ll kiss her!” Roland stepped forward.

“No, no, I’ll do it!” Olivier pinched the bridge of his nose. ”She clearly likes me.” Olivier peeked open an eye to see the mime blinking more profusely, apparently not the least bit offended at his obvious disinterest. (Only more evidence for the normal-people-are-entertainment-fodder-for-the-mimes theory)

“Are you sure? Because you don’t seem like you’re going to do it. It’s really fine if you want me to!”

Olivier took a rather long moment to gather himself, and all the dignity that he knew he was about to lose. He kept his eyes firmly shut…and gave her a peck on the cheek.

…Except, when Olivier opened his eyes, he came to find—(to his absolute horror)—that in the moment he had taken to muster his courage, Roland had decided that Olivier wasn’t going to do it, and went in to kiss her other cheek. The mime recognized this in perfect time, (and in perfect mime fashion), stepped out of the way. So the person who he had kissed was actually….

Olivier jerked away with what almost sounded like a horrified squeak, his hand flying to his mouth. He then turned sharply away, sticking out his tongue, and hacking like a cat who had a hairball.

Roland simply blinked, then began to laugh mirthfully, like he didn’t find the situation the least bit awkward. “Well played, Mademoiselle!” He applauded her.

The mime bowed with a flourish of her hand, and as she lowered herself Monsieur Butterbeans flew off her shoulder and into the hand of her owner, who he then brought up to his own cheek to nuzzle gratefully

“Olivier, your mouth tastes like an ashtray.” Roland remarked as they began to leave—waving his hand and sending an extra thank you towards the mime. “I really hope you don’t smoke before you kiss women. It doesn’t make me want to kiss you again you know.” Roland put his hand on his shoulder.

Olivier flinched violently, snapped equally violently, “Don’t touch me!” and said low, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost I dearly hope it doesn’t.”

Roland just laughed.

“If you even think about mentioning this to anyone—” his glared at him, hoping his eyes were as sharp as he intended them to be.

“I really don’t know what the big fuss is about! It was just a silly prank! And a rather clever one on her part!”

Olivier stuck his tongue out again, feeling like he was going to vomit. “It was a disgusting prank.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll feel insulted! I hope my mouth didn’t taste half as bad as yours did.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Your mouth didn’t taste like anything, because that didn’t happen and we are never talking about it!”

“Well, nothing to complain about is good news I guess!”

“Stop. Talking. About it.”

They had been walking a good way, and the sun was setting over the city, when the old man stopped in front of them, holding Monsieur Butterbeans in front of him, looking down at her lovingly.

“Thank you for helping me find my dear Monsieur Butterbeans,” the old man spoke. (Olivier tried not to shout in surprise at the reveal that he could actually talk). “The Church really does help those in need, doesn’t it? You’re good boys.”—(Olivier would have preferred ‘men’ but)—“I would like to repay you somehow.”

“Oh no, we simply couldn’t accept!” Roland burst out, stepping forward. “A good deed is its own reward! ‘Anything you do for the least of these’ and all! Although, you’re not the least of course! It’s just a verse you know! Well no verse is just a verse, but—”

“I feel I must do something for your…trouble.” (Olivier curled his nose at the slight snicker there was behind the word ‘trouble.’) “At the very least, I have some rather nice vintage wines in my cellar—“

Before Roland could say once again that that-really-wasn’t-necessary, Olivier shot his hand in front of him and said, a little too loudly, “We will gladly accept.”

******

The next day Olivier was leaning back in his chair in front of a rather large stack of paperwork, massaging the crick in his neck when Roland burst in, a little girl hiding behind him.

“OLIVIER!” He panted. “Olivier, this poor girl has lost her favorite doll! We simply must help her!”

Olivier shut his eyes, rubbing his temple, his voice shaking. “You told me you would work harder if I—”

“I will! I will! But this is urgent!”

Olivier sighed. “Astolfo!” He yelled.

After a few moments, a boy with red hair came in.

“You sent for me?”

“Roland has a job for you...(however ridiculous it may be)," he added under his breath. "Will you help find this girl’s doll?” Olivier marched forward, his footsteps ominous on the stone floor, and grabbed Roland’s wrist a little too tight, dragging him into a chair, “Roland here has work to do.”

As Astolfo obliged, Olivier muttered, more to Roland than anyone else, “And he’s not getting out of it this time.”

Roland pouted, plopping down in the chair to properly do his Chasseur work.

...And Olivier couldn’t help but feel like he was having a perfectly satisfactory morning once again.

<-Day 6: The Royals

Day 4: Chloé and/or Jean-Jacques->

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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6x06: You Can't Handle the Truth

Then:

Soulless Sam was a psychotic work of art

Now:

Calumet City, Illinois

Jane, a cute waitress at Biggerson’s, talks on the phone with a friend about whether a boy likes her (Bechdel who?). “I just need the truth,” she implores, as the camera zooms in on her mouth.

She gets the truth. After ending the call, her coworkers start telling her VERY mean things, and a customer admits to running over a homeless man once. People just poor their worst thoughts out at her. Feeling like she’s going crazy, she calls someone to pick her up. Her friend just throws out more mean things at Jane. It’s then that Jane pulls out a gun and kills herself. DARK.

Meanwhile Dean’s on the phone with Bobby about Sam. Bobby says he’ll look into it more and tells Dean, “Don’t shoot him yet.” Once off the phone, Sam brings food and a case.

They head to interview Jane’s sister. She tells Sam that Jane was having a bad day, and she tried cheering her up. Sam --ruthless and blunt-- calls her out on her lie and asks what she did. Dean watches, perplexed. The sister starts crying, and admits that she wanted to console her sister, but it’s not what came out when she talked to her. They leave wondering what could have caused the fatal exchange.

At a dentist’s office, a man sits in the dreaded chair, chit chatting with the dentist. He suddenly admits to not liking his wife anymore, and he’s actually a raging pedophile.

Dean’s back on the phone with Bobby, hoping for answers on whether it’s Sam or Satan that’s Dean’s copilot. Dean’s struggling with the idea that this could just be Sam.

Sam comes back to the motel to report another death --this time a guy got drilled to death. (But by the “non-sexy kind of drilling”, as Dean points out. DUDE.) Dean tells Sam to go interview the dentist alone. He’ll stay behind and do research. Uh, not suspicious at ALL , Dean.

Turns out, the dentist hung himself before Sam could talk with him. They’re thinking that all the truth telling around the deaths point to a curse. While Sam heads to the morgue to check out the body, Dean heads to the dentist’s office. Once there, he finds a receipt for “Harry’s House of Horns” and remembers that Jane also had frequented the store.

He goes to interview the store owner.

The owner asks about progress on his stolen horn. It was a museum piece, a thousand years old, one in a million. It was stolen the same day Jane died.

Later, at the motel, he looks up Gabriel’s Horn, and sarcastically prays to Cas to check out the “loose nuke”, not really expecting the angel to show.

GUYS. I haven’t rewatched this episode in --forever!--and didn’t think Cas was in it. But HE IS. AND we get a “Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s a little (!) pissed that Cas will come for this stupid horn, but not otherwise. Cas reassures Dean that Sam is not Lucifer while pouring him a consolation drink.

Dean asks Cas what’s wrong with Sam, but Cas doesn’t know (Like, doesn’t Cas honestly not know he forgot Sam’s soul or is he lying on purpose?). Dean then stares (and stares) at Cas. He wants to know what Cas’s deal is --when did he stop being human (*whimpering noises*). “I’m at war.”

For Science:

Dean mentions Gabriel’s Horn of Truth and says they think it’s in town. Before he can continue, Cas is gone. (*whimpering noises*)

Dean takes a drink, and Cas is back before he can finish swallowing. He searched the town and didn’t find Gabriel’s horn. Dean turns his back and tells Cas, “Nice seeing you anyway.” Cas tries mending fences a bit by telling Dean that he does want to help with Sam. He tells Dean that he’ll “make inquiries”, and is gone. Dean looks around the room forlornly, and takes another drink.

Sam takes a look at the dead dentist and asks to see the rest of the bodies. The coroner says, “They’re gone.” Gone gone. They’re gone.

Dean sits at a bar, nursing his Cas wounds, and watches the news on the television. Sam calls with the news. He’s at a missing person’s apartment now --and since she died a whole week before the others, he’s thinking the curse started with her.

Dean orders another drink for the road, and utters the words, “I’d just like the freaking truth.” The bartender unloads some serious truths on Dean --and he realizes that he’s cursed.

He calls Bobby to test out his new cursed skills, and learns that Bobby’s drinking milk in the middle of the day and watching Tori and Dean. Lol, nothing to confess at all, Bobby! “I guess it does work over the phone,” Dean laments. Bobby also confesses to pedicures and that Dean’s his favorite (but Sam’s the better hunter). OOF. Said flippantly, but this is one truth siblings never want confirmation on. Dean tells Bobby that he’s cursed --and then he gets an idea.

Dean calls Sam strategically now that he’s carrying the truth curse, and asks him to call him when he has a chance SO HE CAN SPILL. Sam can’t come to the phone right now because he’s going over the case with Corey’s sister. She confesses that her sister was obsessed with finding out the truth about her potentially-cheating boyfriend.

Back with Dean, Lisa calls at the WORST TIME. She confronts him about his behavior - storming in and shoving Ben. “You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down. Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that and not freak out? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?”

Lisa then tears into the reappearance of Sam, tagging the Winchesters’ relationship as unhealthy. As soon as Sam reappeared, she knew their relationship was over. Once everything’s laid out, Lisa pauses. “That came out so much harsher than I meant,” she says, softer this time. Dean absorbs her criticism like a towel specially designed for soaking up loathing. She tells him they’re done.

Sam tears through the bedroom looking for evidence. He finds a cat skull under the bed. “Yahtzee,” as they say. Dean storms in and demands the truth about the vampire hunt. Sam goes dewy eyed. He froze when Dean was attacked! And he feels super duper extra duper bad about it! For REALS.

Later, they uncover the truth - quite literally - while doing research back at the motel. The cat skull was part of a ritual to invoke Veritas. Now everybody in town calls on Veritas whenever they demand the truth. Bombarded with the truth, victims kill themselves and become tributes.

Cut to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it montage of stealing a hard drive from the TV studio of Ashley Frank, local TV anchor. They (mostly Sam) watch cut footage until dawn.

For Pretty Motel Science:

Nothing suspicious appears until a barking dog makes an appearance on film. While the dog barks uncontrollably at the news anchor, they FINALLY notice an eye flash. Monster target LOCKED.

At Ashley Frank’s palatial home, they ready their weapons: blades coated with dog blood. (Sam does NOT want you to ask where he got it from.) The Winchester’s creep through her house, and finally locate an altar-like setup. There are candles, a sculpture of Veritas, and many cute widdle kitties. Veritas arrives and immediately knocks out the Winchesters.

Later, they wake to find themselves tied to posts. Veritas strolls in wearing a fabulous gold gown and gets right in Dean’s face so she can absorb some delicious emotions.

Dean confesses that he feels better about Sam now, but before he thought he was a monster and wanted to kill him. Dean explains that the hunting gig is that you’re either covered in blood, or dying in it. He tells her that he’s good at slicing throats - he isn’t a father. He’s a killer. I SCREAM BECAUSE 15X18 AND 15X19 LEFT US A GIFT (and then 15x20, well……..doesn’t exist).

Sam tells Veritas that their lives are hard, but he and Dean watch out for each other. He’s EXTREMELY chill about the situation. Veritas listens to this calm analysis and then freaks out and accuses him of lying. She demands to know “what” he is, which is SO RUDE.

They could stick around and talk some more, but Sam’s finally done sawing through the ropes holding him down. He escapes, then Dean frees himself as well. Veritas gets stabbed first by Dean, then Sam. She perishes dramatically, but after that foe is defeated, Dean raises a knife to Sam. Dean demands the truth.

Sam reveals that he knows he is “Sam,” but he understands that there’s something wrong with him. He lied, and he let Dean get turned into a vampire because he knew there was a cure, and that Dean could fight it. He admits that old Sam wouldn’t take the risk of Dean turning forever, or killing an innocent person. Sam tells Dean he doesn’t feel anything - and this is what makes him a better hunter. Sam concludes that he needs help.

Dean knocks Sam to the ground and starts throwing several punches at him until he passes out.

The Quotes Hurt:

Dentist drilled a guy to death

I'm here hittin' the books while drinking a nice glass of milk, while watching Tori & Dean

I'm not saying don't be close to Sam. I'm close to my sister. But if she got killed, I wouldn't bring her back from the dead!

It’s the gig. You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #spn 6x06 #you can't handle the truth #bobby singer #supernatural season 6

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devildom-tyrant · 4 years

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask how the brothers would react to MC leaving the Devildom? Whether it be for a short time and then they come back or they don’t come back is up to you! Thanks and I love your work! 😊

I was gonna do a short bit featuring all the bros so I can get out some feels while we’re waiting for the next chapter, but these first three got kinda long, so I’m gonna go ahead and post them for the queue before I go to bed so you guys have some new content to read from me. I usually try to do 3 or 4 of the guys per imagine when they get lengthy, so I hope these three are okay!

*Your year is up, and you’ve gone back to the human realm, with a promise to see the demon brothers again. Luckily, your DDD still works there.

Lucifer

He becomes increasingly more agitated the longer you’re gone. He manages to hold out for two weeks before he makes an excuse to go up to the Human Realm alone -- something that Diavolo notices, and makes a few not-so-subtle comments about toward Lucifer later.

He asks to see you, and when you say yes, you get a short reply: “Come outside.”

Unsurprisingly, Lucifer is standing there, his expression tense until he sees you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” you admit, but no sooner are the words from past your lips before you find yourself gasping when he pulls you against his chest.

He’s silent, but his arms are firm. “Lucifer?” You’re so close that you know he can feel your heart hammering, even as you grip the edges of his cloak.

“It doesn’t feel right without you.”

The words are murmured softly -- hesitantly. You’re not even sure you heard him right at first, so you hum quizzically in the back of your throat, trying to pull back to see his face.

“I don’t like this feeling,” he states louder, his words finding their footing. “I’m not someone that ever feels this way.”

“What way?” you implore, finally pushing back with your palms against his chest to meet his shadowed gaze.

“Like something’s missing. There’s this hollow feeling in my chest without you around every day. You shouldn’t be here. You belong by my side.”

Your head is spinning. You had been playing a video game moments before, and now you feel as if you’re getting a love confession -- which, come to think of it, you practically did right before you left. Is this a follow-up to that? Something more concrete?

“Are you saying I should come back? My time is over, so I didn’t think I could right now.”

“I don’t give a damn about having you as a transfer student,” he claims, the words coming out in a rush. “We made a pact. You’re mine.”

Lucifer’s mouth crashes against yours in the next moment, cutting off any rebuttal you might’ve had. You find yourself melting under the heat of the kiss, clinging to his shoulders as your lips part in surrender to his tongue. He doesn’t need to say anything more; you know what he really means, what he feels for you. You’ll have a decision to make, your own feelings to consider, once you break apart, but for now...

For now, you let the devil himself kiss you beneath the streetlights, holding you close and soothing the ache in your heart from where you desperately missed him, too.

Mammon

The avatar of Greed doesn’t even make it a week before he’s decided to go to the Human Realm -- alone. It isn’t as easy for him as it is for Lucifer. He can’t come and go as he pleases, he isn’t about to ask Diavolo for permission, and he doesn’t feel like walking through the eight layers of Devildom... although it’s tempting, considering the alternative.

A text came through your DDD:

“It’s not like I miss you or anything, but can’t you summon me? We’re in a pact! You should be practicing your skills while you’re away!”

Try as you could, though, you were unable to summon Mammon, adding to his frustration. He really was lonely without you, and he felt too down to even try out a get rich quick scheme.

On the contrary, he found himself wiring the very witches he owed money to even more Grimm one evening. The summoning worked, but unfortunately, he discovered that he was in an entirely different country from you -- and he didn’t have human cash to travel. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

It only added to his misery, being so close and yet so far away. He returned to the Devildom, to the jeers of his brothers, who didn’t like being left out of his plan.

You could sense how bad he felt through his texts and late-night phone calls where he just wanted to hear your voice. After two weeks, you started exchanging selfies and calling him twice a day. His texts became clingier, and he found himself lying in your old bed late at night, when his brothers were asleep, hoping to catch some comfort in the fading scent of your shampoo.

One night, you got a text that surprised you.

“I really miss you. A lot. I wish you were here.”

Mammon had dropped the veneer of tsundere deflection that he’d kept up even after you kissed.

You could still hear his words ringing in your ears from that night:

Why doncha just stay here from now on? Who needs the human world? Don’t go back there.

I want you here with ME, all the time.

You’d left, despite that, not thinking you really had a choice. But, to be honest, things hadn’t felt the same after you were gone a year. Life had moved on without you, and you...

Your thumb tapped out a response.

“Then I’ll come back.”

He started and stopped typing several times. Finally, you got back, “SERIOUSLY?”

“If you really want me to.”

Again, several moments passed as he erased and retyped a reply several times. “If that’s what YOU want, too.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. But how?”

“I’ll find a way. I’ll talk to Lucifer and Diavolo if I have to.”

With that, Mammon dashed up to Lucifer’s room in the middle of the night, forgetting his fear of being strung from the ceiling for a millennia for disturbing his sleep.

Levi

You and Levi continue to text every day, and honestly, your relationship doesn’t seem any different. The downside is that you can’t play video games together, and you don’t get any of the Devildom TV shows or anime that you had been binging together late at night. You don’t really sense a change until one day, he doesn’t text you as much.

In actuality, Levi had been pretty down ever since you returned to the Human Realm. He came out of his room even less than usual, and skipped meals unless he could bring them to his computer. He still had his group of gaming buddies to play with, but he found himself missing the ability to just go to your room or have you show up to his. He missed the connection, the times you’d rest your head on his shoulder or push his arm.

And he was incredibly jealous of all the humans that would get to spend that time with you instead.

You sent him a text about Mononoke Land -- something you don’t have access to anymore -- and instead of the lengthy text spam about the latest spirit, you saw him begin to type and stop several times.

An hour later, you finally got a text back:

“I’ll see you again, right?”

It makes your chest ache to see that text, and you can feel your eyes watering. You miss him; you really do.

“Of course you will. I wanna come back as soon as I can.”

“Then come back soon. OH, and don’t forget to bring me --”

The text goes into a list of anime merch that he wants you to pick up, most of which is out of your budget, but you decide that you’ll order some online. He cheers up a little as the texts continue, but you can tell that he’s missing you as much as you miss him. You never did get a chance to convince him that your kiss was more than just a trope coincidence, and you endeavor to prove that to him next time.

Starting by sending him a cosplay selfie of you as his favorite character.

#obey me imagine #obey me game #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me drabble #obey me spoilers #omspoilers #queued post

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Note

what about ~ general ~ #48?

Gravity

Heyyyyy, so uh, remember sending this? Well, sorry this took 100,000 years. And uh, sorry, this got so long imma break it up into three separate parts. Because, ya see, the prompt you sent sparked a three chapter growing back together story. And... your prompt, which was general #48 “I won’t hurt you”, actually doesn’t appear until the final chapter 🤦🏼‍♀️... we love an overwriter, right?

Okay so anyways, hopefully part two will be out soon. And forgive this for not being my greatest writing ever.

And thanks, love, for sending me a prompt to start with!

Peeta and I grow back together.

"How long are you going to waste those paints?" I tease wryly, announcing my presence as I lean against the doorframe.

Peeta doesn't even glance back at me, but I can see from my angle his expression turn sardonic. "Until this shade of green is exactly right."

I chuckle, coming further into the room—using extra caution to not startle him as he can be easily triggered when his mind is preoccupied elsewhere—and attempting to peer over his shoulder at the canvas.

It's covered with a cloth though and this time he turns to look at me before laughing softly. "Trying to sneak a peek?"

I glance at him, a little ruffled, before my eyes find my feet. "I didn't know it was supposed to be secret," I defend, for some reason feeling embarrassed by my curiosity.

Our dynamic is still tense some days. We haven't kissed since we were in the Capitol and that was only to fight off his hijacking. We haven't genuinely kissed, kissed because we wanted to, for nothing but our own simple pleasure, since the Quell, on the beach, the last night before we were separated.

Since before Peeta was taken by the Capitol. Since before he was hijacked.

But his memory is better now and the clouded, haunted look is long gone from his eyes. In it's place is the same brightness, the same instinctive kindness, the same gaze I used to see even in the worst of circumstances.

Still though, I don't always know what to say or not say. I don't know what our boundaries are now.

I know that his house and mine are always open to the other one. I don't have to knock or announce myself when I come over, and more times than not I return from hunting to find him situated at my kitchen table, waiting for me before cutting our breakfast bread.

I don't always know where our trauma ends and our friendship begins. I don't honestly know where we even stand anymore. From allies to friends to unconscious lovers to enemies and back, I get whiplash practically trying to decipher it, and I can't even imagine how much more confusing it must be for him, still after all this time.

He is more committed to that stupid over-the-phone therapy we've both had forced upon us though. He is committed like an old dog to a rotten bone to healing himself from the wounds Snow inflicted.

I'm about to find an excuse to leave the room, to more than likely leave his house altogether and go out to the woods, like I too often do when I'm at loss for words or things grow awkward, when his fingers touch under my chin. He gently lifts it up to meet his sky blue irises. "Come help me mix colors," he implores, his eyes enthusiastic and genuine.

I nod tentatively after a moment, following behind him, like a wide-eyed child. Like my sister used to follow behind me when we walked from the Seam to town and back.

He makes room for me at the table he's turned into his painting palette. On it resides papers upon papers, each covered with dozens of green variants.

"Peeta," I gap at him, my eyes getting wide. "How have you made all these shades?"

He scratches the back of his neck, blushing a little, and managing to get a moss color on his neck from the wet paint still situated on his fingertips.

I have the most insane urge to clean his neck off myself, to touch him there, as though a spot that's always displayed in plain sight could suddenly be so intimate.

I squash that desire so fast, I feel my temples pulse.

"I've been working on getting this color right for a few days now," he admits sheepishly.

I raise my eyebrow at him, a little more coy than I was only a minute ago. "A few days?"

"Okay, so it's been a couple of weeks."

I laugh then, really laugh, from the bottom of my stomach. It only last for a few seconds but it's such a rarity still that I ever feel that kind of unadulterated joy, and I choose to bask it for all it's worth.

It doesn't escape my notice though that I only ever have these rare moments in Peeta's vicinity. Not that I plan to openly share this—with anyone, really, but especially with him—but it's something I can't help but clock, even if just to myself.

Apparently I'm not the only one who finds my laugh significant, because when I look up at him again, Peeta is staring at me with a look of awe now shining in his gaze. A look I didn't realize until he was back in Twelve, until he was back mentally, until we had started on the memory book together, that he'd lost in his hijacking. It was a gaze I had seen in thousands of moments before, on the train, in the beds we shared at night, in the arenas, in my living room.

That shining look of awe in his eyes is just another thing I didn't realize how much I missed, how much it meant to me, until it returned. Another thing I didn't even realize Snow took away from me.

He breaks the silence between us again, his mouth turning up on one side, his eyes suddenly glazing over. For a moment I brace myself for a flashback, something that I have become accustomed to witnessing on a regular basis. He never loses his mind, he never snaps or thinks I'm a mutt or anything of the sort, but he'll grow quiet for a long moment and he'll clutch the underside of the table or the back of a close by chair, and shut his eyes until it's over.

But he isn't having a flashback now. Instead, his words are wistful and full of longing. "I miss hearing you laugh like that," he quietly says, unashamed. Like he's always said everything. Confidently, even when he wasn't.

I offer him a small smile in return before turning back to the paint covered table, segueing not as subtly as I wish. "Okay, so how am I supposed to help you make your ideal green color?" I turn to him and add in a teasing tone, "I'm not quite as experienced in frosting as you."

It has the desired effect and he comes to show me how to mix the paints properly, how to add in other colors to make a lighter or darker shade of green.

"So this is why the frosting on the cakes were always so intricate?" I ask after a couple of hours of us just blending paints together.

"Because I'm a perfectionist? No. Because I needed to get the cakes to sell quick enough that I wasn't forced to have the stale, crunchy ones for dinner. Over-the-top frosted cakes sells faster."

I shoot him a sad look at that. I always forget that while I had to work hard from a young age to bring food home to my family, Peeta got stuck with the leftovers no one from the entire district claimed.

Hours pass and I get so lost in mixing colors—okay, actually, I'm playing after a while, as Peeta continues to mix paints—that I don't realize until the sky outside turns dark that we skipped lunch and dinner.

"Peeta," I say, tugging at his arm with my now paint covered palm. "We have to eat."

He shakes his head though. "I've almost got the exact right shade."

I huff. "You need to feed yourself. Or else you'll pass out and I'll have to drag you to your bedroom and it'll be rough on us both."

"So it won't be any different than Sunday at Haymitch's?"

I laugh at that again, really laugh, and my stomach aches and cramps from the unused muscles waking back up after their long hibernation. "Come on," I urge.

"Katniss, I swear, I'm almost finished," he insists again, very solemnly. "Go get food from the bakery for both of us and I'll be done by the time you get back."

I let go of his arm, feeling myself deflate as I realize he's truly not budging. "I can't be the only one who goes to town with paint covered hands," I throw out there, as a last resort.

Without even looking away from the table, he adds, "and a paint covered face."

My brow furrows, confused, when he taps my nose with his wet finger. "Peeta!" I try to exclaim but it gets eaten up by my giggle, which is quickly overpowered by his.

"You told me once green was your favorite color!" He defends, holding up his hands.

I swipe my still wet sheets of paper off the table and fling them at him, effectively covering his cheek and the shoulder of his shirt in a soup of green.

"Oh, you aren't getting away with that," he promises and grabs me around the waist when I bolt for the door. "You couldn't even beat a man with one leg," he teases as he hoists me up and propels us both towards the wet paints again.

"Don't you dare," I threaten but my smile, one I can't repress, isn't letting me give the correct authenticity to my tone and in the end, he only smirks at my words.

A half hour later, I exit Peeta's house, having scrubbed my face the best I could in his bathroom sink. I only made the green fade from my cheeks and nose, not completely evaporate, and my neck is still strewed with flicks of the forresty shade.

My stained shirt is covered though as I pull on Peeta's jacket, having for once left mine in my own doorway, three houses down. Instead of going to fetch it, I choose take him up on the offer to borrow his, pretending it's about convenience and not because I like the way his smell of vanilla and cinnamon and something entirely his own lingers on all his clothing.

I use the key he gave me to the freshly rebuilt bakery and let myself in the backdoor, more so because that's where I'm most comfortable entering. Peeta's new bakery is almost identical in structure to the old one, and his mother would have never let me come in through the front, let alone trade my game over the counter instead of in the chilly back alleyway.

So many times I peaked inside the back, peered over the old baker's shoulder while he examined my squirrels. Majority of the times it was only to see the blazing hot oven, to fantasize about how it must feel to work with that kind of heat in the winter, to have heat so easily accessible at your fingertips that you can take it for granted. But sometimes it was also to catch a glimpse of what the inside must look like, my curiosity getting the best of me.

Being from the Seam, you so rarely had reason to enter a Merchant business. Being from the Seam, there was always a part of you that wondered what the other side of the community must live like.

Well, now I know. I have, really, since I became a victor and Peeta took me with him here on a seldom occasion to chat with his dad while he mother was gone.

I can't help but admire the handiwork of Thom and of many others in the community. They rebuilt the bakery—with assistance, both creatively and manually, from Peeta himself—in only a few months time and it looks like it was never decimated. The woodwork of the wall panels, the marble tile of the floor, the cream color of the walls.

It was like the old bakery, but made newer and fresher.

However, as I grab a loaf of bread and pastries—Peeta did say to get whatever I craved—I spot something out of the ordinary.

The walls visible to the customers in the front are reserved for Peeta to paint murals on, whenever he finds himself in the right mood to create whatever idea he has sitting inside his head. But the walls in the back are typically full of notes and lists and customer orders and—Peeta's own idea—thank you notes and cards from members of the community, who adore him even more now than they did before the war.

But all those things have been cleared away from a section of the wall space. There is a noticeably large blank space, right above the oven and counter, where no one else but Peeta will be able to view it.

It's maybe a little thing to be hung up on, but it strikes me as so strange I cannot stop thinking about it.

I choose to stop at the rebuilt Hob after I finish at the butcher's, offering Greasy Sae an extra pastry for her and her granddaughter.

She takes the offer with a sly look, handing me a container of soup to go with the bread.

"What?" I ask, unsettled a little by her glance, like she knows something I don't.

"I see someone's been painting," she just simply notes, gesturing with her chin to my green stained hand and wrist.

"Oh!" I catch on now. "Yeah, I was just helping Peeta."

The excuse doesn't seem to diminish the glint in her eyes. "Helping. Yeah, I'm sure."

I roll my eyes in her direction as I walk towards the door, calling out, "goodnight," evenly over my shoulder.

When I get back to Peeta's though, he isn't in his art studio. Instead he's in the kitchen, grabbing silverware and plates for us to eat. "Grab bowls too," I call as I plop our food down on his countertop. "Traded a pastry for some."

He shoots me a sardonic look now. "You know you don't have to trade for everything, right?"

"I like it more than spending money," I retort easily, slipping off his jacket. "I'm going to go scrub my hands in the bathroom again before we eat," I say, glancing at my still green digits.

"Well, hurry," he urges teasingly. "You have gotten me so used to eating things when they're fresh, I almost can't stand waiting anymore."

His hand playfully pushes on my back, propelling me towards to the stairs, and I have a hard time denying even to myself the thrill that runs through my body when him unexpectedly touches me.

I quickly wash and scrub as much paint off my palms and wrists as I can, drying hastily on the towel Effie definitely sent from the Capitol.

But I find myself with a sudden irrepressible urge, one not even the food downstairs or Peeta waiting can quench. As I pass by the art room, I see the painting he was so meticulously working on now sitting on his drying table, leaving the canvas empty.

I know I shouldn't invade his privacy but, after everything else we've been through, there isn't much he would keep from me.

At least, that's what I tell myself to rationalize my prying away as justifiable.

I walk to the table, as quietly as I do in the woods when hunting prey, as not to tip him off in case he is listening from the kitchen. I'm unprepared to offer my excuses for snooping to his face, despite the fact I can't picture him being too put out with me.

I am also utterly unprepared for the vision that awaits me in the now finished painting.

Laying flat on it's back, the painting stares directly up at me as I approach. The canvas displays a beautiful girl, with black hair and large grey eyes and a very endearing, bashful smile. There's a variety of flowers in her hair and in her hands she's holding a small bouquet of dandelions. There's a warm, glowing sunset behind her and a willow tree in the distance. It takes me a moment to realize, but her sweater is a dark shade of green, more pleasing to the eye than any leaf or shrub I've ever come across, even on the Victory Tour, in the most lovely botanical gardens the country had to offer.

The girl in the portrait is beautiful and shy and happy and you can see, even in a painting, that she doesn't enjoy having her image captured.

I have to blink six separate times before it finally registers that the girl is me. Her skin is a multitude of colors, varying shades from where something ate a part of her flesh away. But instead of that making her less attractive, it only serves in making her all the more stunning. Her skin is a gorgeous vision and I don't know how Peeta managed the impossible. I don't know how he managed to make me beautiful, but he did.

"Katniss?" I hear him call, and I jump at the sound of his voice ripping me out of the moment. His tone is light and playful, and I have to swipe my hand across my eyes to rid myself of the moisture that's leaked out before he sees. "You coming to dinner?" He asks from the bottom of the stairs and I give the lovely work of art one last look before I follow his voice, a rare, uncontrollable smile forming on my mouth as I shut the door behind me.

After everything else that's happened, only Peeta could make me feel like this.

A few weeks later.

I admire the bright yellow primroses, now in full bloom, the lightly blowing wind only complimenting their beauty and elegance instead of disturbing it.

I stare blankly at the flowers planted in my sister's honor. My sister who should be here now, should be stitching bleeding wounds and helping with the reconstruction of the town. My sister who should be admiring Peeta's frosted cakes and convincing me to dance with her in the living room by the fire. My sister who should have never been in the Capitol that day, should have been tucked away in Thirteen with our mother, should have never grown up as quickly as she was forced to or had her life stolen in a split second.

Peeta's fingers sift through my hair, unconsciously sensing the tension building in my body as I feel a rise of anger at all Coin and Snow took from me in the name of power.

I turn my head up to glance at him, craning my neck a little. I'm about to say something, I'm not sure what yet, but something to convey that I'm fine. Something to brush off what I assume are his concerns. But I'm surprised by what I see when I peer up. His face isn't what I expected.

Instead of concerned or curious, he's having his own sort of contemplation. Instead of even looking at me, he's staring up at the clear blue sky, watching the white puffs of clouds floating microscopically slow across the the way.

But his brow is furrowed and his mouth is turned down and he seems uncharacteristically miserable.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up now. We'd been laying beside each other—maybe a little too close but neither of us seemed to mind—on the grass in my backyard, just trying to rest. We'd planned on working on new entries for the memory book today, but I hadn't slept at all last night and when he came over this morning to find me, still home and not in the woods, with my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose, it was him who'd suggested a day off, relaxing in the grass under the sun.

He barely glances at me now, not really acknowledging my inquiry. "Nothing," he states simply and his hand touches mine for the briefest of seconds before pulling away.

"No, tell me what's bothering you," I insist defiantly. I don't know if it's the crankiness from lack of sleep or if I'm just fed up with having words left unsaid between us, but I'm not backing down.

"Katniss, come on," he says exasperatedly and his tone irks me further.

Instead of snapping and saying something I may regret later, I just shake my head at him, pushing myself upwards and beginning the walk back to the house, with every intention of abandoning our afternoon plans of relaxation. "Okay, wait!" He calls in retaliation and I feel him stretch to grip my hand in his again, only this time not dropping it after only a moment.

I relent and move backwards, sitting down to face him cautiously. I'm not worried that he's going to snap or harm me, not even in the slightest, but I am worried that both of us in foul moods-with our minds that are already teetering just on the edge of sanity-will lead to a painful, heated argument.

The last thing I want is to fight with Peeta. As much as I hate to admit it, even to myself, I've come to rely far too heavily on his presence in my daily life. Driving him away is too agonizing to consider right now.

Peeta doesn't let go of my hand for a long beat and when he does, he does so in a slip so awkward it leaves me believing he didn't even realize he was still grasping it. "I was just thinking about Gale," he blurts out, his eyes wide and a little nervous.

I just stare at him though, waiting for him to elaborate. "You were thinking of Gale?" The name burns the inside of my mouth, the face of the person I once called my friend now only bringing the gut-wrenching image of my sister's last moments of life, as the bombs he potentially built floated from the sky down towards her and hundreds of other unexpecting children. "Wh-why were you thinking of Gale?" I press, my voice caught between shocked and angry.

But Peeta seems prepared for my strangled query. "I guess, I was thinking of every which way... I guess, I was really thinking of the possibility of Gale returning," he explains, and my blood turns to ice. My vision swirls at the very thought and I have to force myself to swallow as my throat suddenly feels very dry.

"Did you hear something I haven't? Do you know if he is coming back to Twelve?" I press as evenly as I can. It's fruitless though, as he shoots me a sympathetic—but still somewhat distracted—look.

"No," he promises, shaking his head. "No, I haven't heard anything about him. I'm just assuming that he will at some point-"

"Why?" I can't help but implore, my voice more aggravated than I intend.

Peeta gives me a look like the answer to my words is blatant. "Because this is is his home, Katniss. You're his home," he emphasizes.

"No," I instantly repel. "No, I'm not his home. Don't even say that. I-I'm not..." I can't seem to make the words come out intelligibility. Instead, I find myself choking on the sounds and syllables. "What even brought this on, Peeta? Why would you be thinking about this?"

At that, he shrugs and breaks his conflicted gaze away, leaving me boring deep into the side of his skull as if the answers I craved would be visible there. "I was happy," he offers quietly, after a long stretch of silence. "I was happy here with you and it got me thinking of all the ways this could be taken away from me."

Oh, I realize as his words hit me. Of course. Of course that's where his mind went. Because not so long ago, every single good thing in his life, from his family, to his home, to his freedom, to his sanity itself, were all viciously and mercilessly stolen. Of course Peeta has such little faith that anything good will last for him anymore.

Still though. To think of Gale as the thing to ruin our days together, our growing friendship, would almost be laughable if it wasn't so insane.

"Why him though?" I press, unable to comprehend his line of thinking. "Why did you think about him coming back?"

He shoots me the same look again, like he can't understand why I even have to ask. "Because that is one sure way you'd be done with me."

"What?" I exclaim, like he was speaking in a language I'd never heard before. "Why would that mean I'd be done with you?"

Now his expression turns downright exasperated and I feel like mine must match. "Because, Katniss. He's-he's..." He struggles with finding the proper wording again. Something that is so incredibly rare for Peeta Mellark that I don't even register it. "He's the one for you," he continues softly after a moment, no malice in his voice, just what he believes to be facts. "I knew that—I've always known that. Long before I knew much else about you, I knew that Gale and you were practically-"

"Peeta, stop," I cut off, maybe not soon enough. "Gale and me... no," I insist venomously. "No, he..." And if Peeta is struggling to speak, I'm know I'm obviously doomed right now. I take a breath and just stare into the blue pools in his eyes and force myself to speak, even if it's difficult, even if I'd rather be choking on a rusty nail right now. "I will never have anything to do with Gale again," I declare gently, doing my best to remain calm and steady.

Peeta shoots me a wary look and I suddenly have to question if he knows about Gale and the bombs. The question that can never be answered, the connection I'll never be able to prove or disprove, but know in my gut what the answer likely is.

He can't know, if he thinks there's a chance that I'd ever have any sort of relationship with Gale again.

"Peeta," I struggle to get out, feeling breathless before I've even began to utter any of it. "Gale is the one—or he might be the one, I don't know, I'll probably never know—who built or created or wha-"

But he's shaking his head rapidly, comprehension flickering across his face. "Katniss, I know," he says, and reaches out to squeeze my palm again. The unexpected touch sends a shock wave through my body but I'm too overwhelmed to really notice. "Haymitch told me about Gale's part in Prim's death."

I rip my hand away so fast, acting before thinking, betrayal spreading through my entire being before I have the chance to even process his words. "If you know that, why do you think I'd ever have anything to do with him again?"

Peeta is starting to really grind on my nerves with that incredulous look he keeps giving me. It's as if he cannot follow what I'm saying or thinks that I'm not seeing his side of the argument or something else that is quite obviously wrong.

How on earth could Peeta ever think that I would be able to look Gale in the eye after what he did? After what he might have done? Does the might of even make a difference? If there's any discrepancies between if he did or didn't murder Prim, how could I ever hold a conversation with him while that hangs between us? How could I meet his eyes and always be reminded I can never meet her's again? How could I ever trust someone like that, that made callous decisions in the heat of righteous anger? Someone who had no idea what it was like to be forced to murder and have it labeled a game. Someone who actively ignored the warnings of those who had? Who actively allowed himself to be used as a puppet for a radicalist who was no better than Snow himself?

Peeta's voice yanks me from my thoughts. "Because, Katniss," he starts gently, looking rather mournful, effectively softening my anger against him just a bit. "You forgave me. How am I any better?"

I just stare at him. "You couldn't help what you did, Peeta."

"Wasn't Gale used too? Just by Coin instead of Snow?"

"It's not the same thing."

"Why not?"

"You didn't possibly kill my sister. And God knows how many other kids," I finally say, the fight in my voice still hanging on.

"I almost killed you," he reminds me, as if I have forgotten.

"It's not the same thing, Peeta," I whisper again, my eyes more compelling, more insistent, than my voice now. He sees that, as he's gazing deeply into my steel colored irises.

He takes a deep breath, mulling over his words before speaking them aloud. I realize then he must have been thinking about this for a while. The concept disturbs me for some reason. Like he's been having this debate in his head without me and I'm late to the event. Like he was actively having this argument already and didn't think to even get my side of the story first. "What if Snow had programmed me to kill Prim instead of you? Then would you have forgiven me?"

I have to look away at that moment because I outright don't know what to say. Would I have been able to ever forgive him for it, for trying to murder my little sister while not in his right mind? Would I have been able to look past it, to see that he was used and abused and destroyed to get to me? Or would I have been so stuck on the idea of anything hurting Prim that all his trauma would have become background noise? Would Gale be the one here now, having this conversation with me, while I was denouncing Peeta's name?

I can't give him an answer and we swore not to lie to each other, in light of everything we've been through, so instead I turn my eyes up to look into the forlorn blue skies I've become so accustomed to and say the only thing I know is true. "I honestly don't know, Peeta."

He nods at that, almost immediately accepting my honestly. Almost like he anticipated those words from me. And he offers me a small smile before standing himself up off the grass and walking towards the backdoor to my house. "I'm going to head home for the day," he says quietly, with no resentment in his voice.

My heart sinks at his words, as some long stifled string inside of me wishes to attach onto him and hold him here with me. To refuse to let him leave until that forlorn edge evaporates from his gaze. But something more prevalent, more powerful, is also churning inside of me, something that cannot stand being withheld even for a day, and I find myself calling out his name against my better judgment.

"Peeta!" I exclaim urgently, my voice rocky and scratched.

He turns and looks at me, his eyes curious to what I could have to say. And I don't know what else to utter, but the truth. The misunderstanding I'm irrationally unsettled by, the misconception that I can't continue to let fester inside his head.

"Gale was never the one for me."

Peeta blinks in surprise at the blatant assertion. He opens up his mouth to speak several times, confusion marring his features, but nothing comes out.

And in case he somehow wants to rationalize my statement away, in case somewhere in his head the demon Snow planted is trying to squash any assurance my statement may inspire, I repeat myself again.

"Gale was never the one."

A month later.

"Haymitch, come on," I mutter, pushing my old mentor towards the front door. "Go home. Sleep off the alcohol."

The older man murmurs something equally unintelligible and also somehow still undoubtedly rude at me, shoving my hands away from his back, where I'm trying to aim him in the direction of the exit.

"The boy is much gentler," he snaps, swaying heavily with his vigorous words.

"We have always agreed that Peeta is superior to me. You can go to his house if you want him to tuck you in tonight."

Haymitch guffaws at that, out of his skull. "Now wouldn't that make you jealous?"

"Get out!"

"Night night, Sweetheart."

After he's gone, I lock the door in case he tries to come back, tries to raid my kitchen again or use my couch as a free bed.

Nothing is more freighting than thinking I'm alone in my house and then seeing a man sleeping in my living room, first thing in the morning.

As I head upstairs though, I realize what I just did. Giving Haymitch the idea to go to Peeta's house, to torture him with his inebriation like he does me, and I wonder if Peeta's angry with me now.

Not real, long lasting anger, of course. Just simple irritation. But still, as I change into my pajamas and brush out my braid, I wonder if I've now destroyed Peeta's night.

At first the idea of our mentor giving Peeta a hard time tonight still doesn't seem like a too terrible situation to me. Peeta's definitively the one that will put up with the tiresome antics of the old drunk until he can't any longer. He's the one who will be more likely to have mercy on a sloshed Haymitch and let himself lose sleep, too kind for his own good.

But then it hits me that when Peeta loses too much sleep, when his insomnia kicks in, or when commotion keeps him awake, he surely has a flashback the following day. Resting later into the day doesn't help either, as any disruption to his sleep schedule can really mess with him good.

I feel myself rush to the window across from my bed, peering out to look three houses down, to see if I can spot the paunchy old man heading in that direction.

I see nothing and no one. It's the black of night, in the middle of winter. No one else lives in what used to be Victor's Village, aside from us three. The road between our houses is cold and wet and entirely void.

Still, I try to squint, to see if I can make anything out over at Peeta's.

His light is off. That much I can tell. The light in his bedroom is turned off, the room is too dark to see into, porchlight is turned off, and all this indicates he's fast asleep, Haymitch went home to his own house and I have nothing to worry about.

However, something else catches me attention then. Peeta's window. It's open. Just like it used to be. Just like before the Quarter Quell. Even in the middle of winter, in the darkest part of the night, he's always kept his bedroom window open.

I tell myself it's paranoia, or it's neighborly kindness. But I decide to open my window as well, in case I hear Haymitch pounding on Peeta's door and disturbing him at an ungodly hour. In case I hear Haymitch causing a ruckus outside Peeta's house and I have to go get him before he causes any massive disturbance.

I tell myself it's because I feel guilt and not because I miss Peeta, even in my sleep.

Especially in my sleep.

I doze off, desperately forcing myself to believe that lie.

When I wake up three hours later, it's not because Haymitch is making noise. No, he hasn't made a peep that I could hear since I kicked him out.

No, I wake up because of a wholly unexpected cacophonous sound.

I wake up because Peeta is screaming.

Peeta is screaming loud, on top of his lungs, like someone is holding a knife or a gun to his throat at this very moment.

It's a sound I recognize instinctively. And not because it resembles the version of him that was rescued and brought to Thirteen.

No, I recognize the sound because it sounds eerily similar to the noises I make from nightmares of the same events, because of flashbacks of the same memories.

Most victors understand each other to varying degrees. We've all lived through literal hells, we've all had our trauma projected across the country, we've all been through horrible ordeals that almost no one else could ever empathize with.

However, most victors didn't win their games together. Most victors don't know what anyone else's personal nightmares are about. Most victors can't even imagine what any of the others are seeing, in any shadow of a dark room. In a the cobwebs of our minds that not even the most proficient doctor can clear. Most victors can't see the haunting reflection in the dark smeared glass that remains unique to each individual victor.

Except me and Peeta. Except us, the once Star-Crossed Lovers, the girl on fire and the baker's boy, the two mouthpieces of opposing sides of war.

The two of us understand each other on a level deeper than anyone else on the planet can even begin to imagine, and it's this fact that draws me thoughtlessly out of my bed at the sound of his cries, and over the threshold and down the street before I even realize what I'm doing. Before I can contemplate it and think my way out of doing it.

I pound on his door, turning my palm pink with the applied force. "Peeta?" I exclaim but all I hear in response is a gut-wrenching howl in pain. I worry for a moment that he's managed to injury himself somehow. That he's lost his prosthetic in his own frenzy and now is lying helpless on the ground.

I take a chance, pleading silently for the door to be unlocked as I turn the knob.

I'm not sure if I should be grateful that Peeta doesn't lock his doors before going to sleep—he doesn't even close his windows though, so how can I be surprised?—but for the moment I bask in the one lucky instance and make a mental note to yell at him tomorrow for it.

My tired, cold legs shoot up the stairs, racing towards his bedroom blindly through the darkness. "Peeta?" I call out again, quieter now than before, not wanting to give him a heart attack.

After all, an intruder, just about any intruder-even my own mother-appearing in my house in the dead of night, would probably knock me unconscious from the adrenaline overload that would surely overtake me.

Because unlike Peeta, I do lock my door—every single door in my house—at night, the image of anyone coming to hurt me while I'm asleep and at my most vulnerable too powerful for me to rationalize away.

But Peeta doesn't hear my voice now and even without any light, I easily locate his bedroom. Despite the fact I've never been in it before. That revelation occurs to me as I'm about to open the door.

Even in our closest and most sacred moments together, I never once set foot inside his bedroom. I'd barely even walked into his house prior to coming back to Twelve after the war. And when I did come here now, we typically stayed in the kitchen or art room for some reason.

All this races through the back of my mind as I push the door open and reveal Peeta, tangled up in his bed sheets, bare-chested and sleeping in only his pajama pants. His fingers clawing at the wall ferociously, his eyes wild as the deer I hunt, when they realize I'm there at the very last second before the arrow pierces their hearts.

"Peeta," I whisper now, my concern for what must have set him off overtaking any qualms I may still have. I try to tell myself to be careful and keep a safe distance, as I don't know if he's himself right now or if he's once again the loaded weapon Snow broke him down and turned him into.

But when he looks at me, his blue eyes wide and wet and terrified and awed, like he thinks I'm nothing but a dream, I can't make myself believe he's anyone but the boy who saved my life years ago. So many years ago now, it seems.

And when he whispers my name and blindly, instinctively, desperately, reaches for me, I just can't make myself stay away. Without hesitating, I lunge forward and for the first time since the Quarter Quell, I throw myself straight into his arms, like I belong there.

My arms wrap around his neck and I feel him pull my body to his, pulling me down against him, molding our two shaky forms together as one. He pulls my legs around his waist and wraps me in a hug so tight my ribs physically hurt and I can't even breathe.

I burrow my face into the skin of his throat, inhaling his scent in an unabashed, reckless act, and turn my cold cheek to lay against his rapid beating heart.

"I thought you were dead," is the first thing he whispers, as the tears still running down his face hit my forehead.

"I'm not," I promise, trying to make my voice convincing, even as I'm reeling by this sudden turn of events.

I never, in a million years, thought I'd ever end up in his arms like this again. This embrace, this comfort, is something else I truly believed Snow had stolen away from me.

"I dreamed you died," he whimpers again, like he didn't hear me.

"I'm here, Peeta. I heard you having a nightmare and I came. As fast as I could." I don't know why I feel the need to tell him this information, but when his trembling starts to lessen I feel slightly validated.

"I lost you," he whispers, his voice hoarse and broken.

"You couldn't lose me if you tried." The words come out without warning, and I'm glad somehow. I'm so tired of words being held back or dropped between us, of neither of us knowing what to say to the other. Of shoving down what we're both really feeling.

Even if right now may be the worst time for declarations, with Peeta exhausted and upset and visibly traumatized, I still feel relief spread all over my body, for having the guts to say what I'm thinking for once.

I see the wheels beginning to turn now, in his bloodshot, puffy eyes as he slowly begins to process the last couple of minutes that's brought us back into the position we held nightly only one year ago.

Has it really only been a year?

I expect then for him to recoil away from me, or apologize even, citing that he doesn't know what possibly came over him. But, to my surprise, he does none of that. Instead Peeta hugs me tighter to him, pulling up the covers he'd kicked away, effectively sheltering us beneath their protective warmth.

"Stay," he whispers into my hair, his arms shaking as they become a soothing balm around me, leaving me feeling safe in a way I refuse to ask for. Giving me back a refuge I considered all but gone. "Please, Katniss, stay with me?"

Without thinking twice, without giving myself a chance to second-guess the words, I whisper into his chest, exactly where I can feel his beating heart, "Always."

#everlark #thg #everlark fic #the hunger games #prompt #play with me 🥰#ask #fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #gravity ♥️ 🌅 🥖#cate 🦋🧸💗💐

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stellarboystyles · 4 years

Text

From the Dining Table

hello friends <3 this is my second fic for the HS1 Masterlist that @bfharry , @stylesloveclub and I have teamed up to write for you, hope you enjoy x

2.9k angst angst angst

For the first time in a long time, Harry was alone. It was a strong contrast to his old schedule, his days were always jam packed with press interviews, meetings, radio interviews, red carpets, appearances, talk show interviews, meet and greets, concerts...He was definitely a busy bee.

He knows he should be happy. It should be unquestionably irie to simply relax and have some time to himself, but Harry is miserable. Has been ever since her. It’s been too long since he’s seen her eyes, those pretty eyes that he could get lost in for hours gazing back at him, and her smile. God, her smile could cheer him up in his darkest days. He can’t stop thinking about her cheeks and how he used to squish them while he cooed at how adorable she was because they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen and whenever she would blush around him he’d brush his thumb across her cheeks and give her butterfly kisses across her soft skin.

He loves her sense of humor, and how she could always make him laugh. Even if he thought he was having the worst day of his life, he saw her and nothing else mattered. Thinking about her personality made his heart thump in his chest. She was so sweet and kind, and so selfless. She was always doing things for other people and she was strong, and so supportive of everything. His lifestyle, his busy schedule, his privacy, everything.

He loves her style, he definitely finds himself wearing things that he thinks she would like. She’s the one who inspired him to jump out of his comfort zone of tight jeans and chelsea boots and explore different colors, patterns, materials, and he’s forever grateful that she showed him that he could be himself, he swears she’s the real reason he truly blossomed into his own style. Not just around her, but that he could show the world who he really was as well. And she cares so much about animals, he loves watching her interact with them, one of his favorite memories being the time that she rescued a family of bunnies from a fox in Harry’s back garden and it was quite literally the sweetest thing his eyes had ever seen. He misses her tender heart and how gentle natured she is.

He misses how he feels fireworks every time she touches him. He misses how her lips taste, how it feels when they move against his. He misses her soft skin, and how she smells like citron and rose. He misses waking up every morning and seeing her all sleepy as he kisses her all over. He misses how she used to touch him and he feels in his bones that no one could ever make him feel the way that she did.

He misses all of that, all of her. Every single inch of her skin, every little bit of what makes her who she is. But he doesn’t get any of her. Not anymore. Instead, he’s alone in this random hotel room and awake at four in the morning because he can’t think about sleep. If he does, all he’d dream about is her. Not that being awake is any better because she is the only thing swirling around in his brain. Flashbacks are hell, especially when he can’t stop thinking about her being on top of him right now, looking completely fucked out of her mind as she rides his cock. He’d be pressing the back of his head into the pillows and she’d touch his chest and smooth her hands down to his lower belly and she’d be doing all the things that she knows drives him fucking wild.

He can’t help himself as he starts to lightly tease himself through the white sheet covering the lower half of his body and there’s a hitch in his breath at the feeling of his fingertips stroking his cock under the thin material. His eyes flutter closed and he’s got nothing on underneath and it just makes him think of her more because he thinks of how much she loved barebacking, and Harry really fucking loved it. The feeling was indescribable, feeling her so deeply on such an intimate level was something out of this world. With every thought of her his reflexes added more pressure, his body temperature rising with every moment passing by until he’d had enough and nearly rips the sheet away from his lower torso and he’s fisting himself now, chasing his release and all he can think about now is how much better she is at the act in question, so much so that it blew Harry’s mind. He didn’t last long, but at this point he didn’t give two fucks if he had an orgasm or not, he just needed to feel something. He was left in a daze as he pushed himself off the bed and towards the bathroom.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

Long, hot showers were created for the sole purpose of contemplating your life, right? Or are they just for trying to cry away a broken heart. He doesn’t know the answer, nor does he know how long he stood there, before tilting his head back and letting the water splash onto his wet locks. Hot water from the shower head hitting his back. After around twenty minutes his skin was numb to the feeling.

In the beginning he’d considered it all, but the reality? She left him, without any sort of reason. Harry’s spent weeks and weeks wracking his brain for something, anything he could’ve done so that he can apologize, make it right. Truly, he hadn’t felt that he’d done anything to upset her. So yes, he had every right to be angry. Maybe it was his fault. He’d spent endless sleepless nights staring at the ceiling of a hotel room, mostly because he couldn't bear to be home because everything reminded him of her, and his mind just couldn’t go there. His nights were spent tossing and turning, doing absolutely nothing until his friends finally convinced him to go out with them.

He didn’t want to admit that it was better than wallowing in self pity all night, but it was. For the next few weeks, all Harry had gotten himself into a cycle. Go out, get drunk, and at the end of the night he’d always be unsatisfied. He kept telling himself he was never going out for the sole purpose to bring a girl that looked like her back to his hotel room, but that’s just what he was telling himself. Deep inside, he was struggling to feel anything. He was angry, sad, and broken.

She didn’t leave her bed for three days. Dejection mercilessly beat up her heart until it felt like there was nothing left. The heartbreak gnawed away at her. She was barely eating, couldn’t sleep and she had no one to blame but herself. She stayed huddled under the covers as she wallowed in self sorrow, knowing all too well that this was all her fault.

It was a travesty. It should have never happened, especially not like this.

The connection they shared was unbreakable. It was evident that nothing could ever raze the bond that they created together. They made the best team, and they were inseparable. Everything was perfect. Harry was charming, loving and softhearted.

Their love was like the ocean. It was tranquil and soothing, yet strong and deep. It was so incredibly breathtaking, but also had the intense potential to destroy. To put it simply, she was damaged. Way before she met Harry, and that was it. She thought she had it under control, she thought that they could make it. They did, for a while, but her demons caught up with her eventually. Everything heightened after she was exposed to all of it. The rumors, the paparazzi, the backlash. It triggered all the worst parts of her, the things that she had kept under control for so long. He tried to help her, tried to fix them. They both tried, but it just wasn’t working.

Now, months later, she was here at the airport. She knew she had to go to him and try to make things right. Clutching her ticket in her hand, she slouched into her chair, staring at all the glowing red words that read “cancelled” across the board. How unlucky was she that she would be stuck at the airport, alone.

“Hi, d’you have any flights t’London for tonight?”

She could hear her heart thumping in her ears when she heard the voice at the desk a few feet away from behind her. It felt like every cell in her body was on fire, she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could happen yet! She was supposed to have a six hour flight to coach herself before this.

“A’right, thank you.”

Oh my god, is he gonna say something? Of course he won't, he hates me.

It felt like she didn’t know him anymore, this boy, this charming, sweet boy that she fell in love with. She was afraid of how angry he is, how bitter that she left.

“Y/N?”

His voice was soft and hesitant, almost shaky.

Her eyes squeeze shut for a moment before looking up at him. He looked dumbfounded, at a loss for words. They couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw each other. He watched the color drain from her face, and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. There they were, face to face in JFK Airport. Seeing each other for the first time since their downfall.

The tension couldn’t get any thicker. Her eyes were locked onto his face, watching him give a pained expression before quickly brushing past her.

“H, wait—”

“You don’t get t’call me tha’ anymore.”

His voice was cold, biting back at her words over his shoulder. He didn’t stop sauntering across the airport and she struggled to keep up.

“Please...I know I don’t deserve it, but can we talk?” She implores before pressing her lips together. “Please.”

His teeth clench before stopping in his tracks, turning around to face her.

“Took y’long enough.”

There was no hint of humor in his voice, no Styles charm, no cheeky smile, no dimples, nothing.

“You look good.”

He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes because he know’s that she’s lying. He knows she’s being kind.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Shit.

“Right.” she nods, eyes falling down to his shoes.

“How are you?”

“Miserable.” she answers honestly.

“S’tha’ supposed t’be my fault?”

She felt her waterline start to sting, but he had every right to be bitter.

“No,”

“Fuck, shouldn’t have said tha’, m’sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” she shakes her head dismissively, brushing off his apology. “I deserved that.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are we really doin’ this right now?”

She gave him a look of desperation, silently begging him to stay. Begging him to listen, even if she didn’t deserve that from him, she knew she didn’t. Harry contemplated whether he should give her any of his time, miss his flight to listen to whatever sorry excuse for an apology she had. But, his heart was still soft for her.

“Where were y’goin?”

“I...I was coming to see you. I thought you’d be in London.”

She was going to London?

“Y’were goin’ t’London?” he quirks, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

She nods. Yeah, to see you.

Harry has the biggest, yet quickest inner battle of his life. He wasn’t sure if letting you back into his house after what happened was the worst decision he’ll ever make or the best one, but he sure as hell felt that it was the right one.

“We can’t talk here.” he muttered, fumbling with his phone once it was pulled out of his pocket. “We can go back to mine.”

Her focus falters, eyes looking at anything but him. she hadn’t been there since…since she fucked up, to put it simply. Her nerves were on the verge of snapping into an anxiety attack.

The car ride to Harry’s house was...well, she couldn’t think of anything more awkward. Except the first moment they had stepped inside his house. Neither of them bothered to get their things out of the back of his car, the luggage quickly forgotten.

It was evident that his energy was extremely low. The discoloration under his eyes was evident and it made her want to cry. She watches in agony as he trudged over to the fireplace mantle, fingertips padding the glass of the frame. Inside was a photo taken when he had taken you on a trip to Norway last October. The two of you were dressed in some cozy pajamas, cuddling on the sofa as Harry took the picture with his camera.

“They weren’t rumors, if you were wondering.”

Her heart aches at his words. She remembered the headlines that ripped at her heart. Tears started to well up in her eyes, intently listening to the broken boy in front of her.

“I was alone, would try and drink ‘til they looked like you.”

Look at me. I’m right here, look at me.

“Said your name.” he murmurs, eyes focused down to where he’s fumbling with his hands. “Didn’t mean too, slipped out.”

Don’t cry, please don’t cry.

“Please look at me.” she cries, desperately trying to reach him, her Harry. “Look at me.”

“Can’t.” he’s shaking his head, locks flopping in front of his face. “I...I-I can’t-”

“Why not.” only a mere second passes by and it’s already too deafening for her to bear. “Tell me.”

“Because, you-” he gulps down a cry but tears are still filling his waterline. “You.”

It feels like time is frozen, like the only thing happening in the entire universe is this conversation.

“What?”

“You.” he looks up and locks his eyes with hers. “It’s you, s’always gonna be you. There’s never gonna be anyone else.”

She takes a step towards him, but he backs away and she swears he flinches and it breaks her heart.

“No, no, no. Y’don’t get t’do tha’. Don’ touch me.”

His words stung like venom inking through her veins.

“H-”

“No!” his eyes turn cold. “If you touch me, I...I won’t make it, I swear. Just- please.”

Just let me love you.

“I…” It’s too much for her to look at him, but she has to say it. He’s quiet, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry.” she cries out, squeezing her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up.”

“Look at me.”

He repeats her previous words. Maybe it’s out of spite, but could she blame him? Not in the slightest.

“You left me!” he snaps. “Why? What…” his chest is rising and falling faster than he can keep up with. “I’ve barely slept since you left, tryin’ t’think of what I did that was so awful.”

Guilt pangs through her as she watches him run his fingers through his hair in frustration, eyes averting to the floor.

“All I’ve ever done was treat y’like a princess,” he murmurs, kicking at the rug beneath his feet. “Sure, we were apart a lot, but I was starting fresh. We finally had time to do anythin’ we wanted. I thought you, of all people, would’ve wanted that.”

“I did, I-I still do.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showin’ it.”

She stayed silent, so he chose to pipe up again.

“Why.”

If she doesn’t say it now, she’ll never say it. This is her once chance to fix things.

“You were talking about things...moving fast, too fast,” she speaks barely above a whisper, the chipped blue polish on her nails suddenly becoming quite interesting. “And with everything that people were saying,”

“Know y’had a hard time, I know tha’. But I thought we worked through it. Then I wake up and you’re gone.”

“I got scared.” he sits down next to her as she’s talking.

“Y’could’ve bloody told me tha’.” relief washes over him, but the temporary emotion is making him forget that the damage had already been done. “Would’ve understood.”

“I know.” she cried. “I panicked, and once I’d left, I felt like I couldn’t come back. I was so scared.”

“Y’can always come back t’me.” his voice is soft and he resists the urge to brush his thumb across her cheek. “I fuckin’ love you. Y’know that. Fuck’s sake, I was calling you, begging you for something.” he pried, not caring to wipe his eyes, now irritated from crying. “Why? Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks as you tried to apologize. “I wanted to. I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m so sorry.”

“I want you to tell me everything. Tell me what scares you so we can work through those things together. Don’t just...don’t just leave.”

“It never should’ve happened that way.” she admits. “But I think maybe we just found each other at the wrong time.” she offers, and his eyes flicker to her face when he feels her fingertips graze his own. “Maybe someday, the time’ll be right for us.”

He loves her. Regardless of what she’s put him through, he loves her.

“Tha’ time could be right now.” he speaks softly, moving his hand to hold hers. “For us.”

She looks up into his eyes, filled with hope and she moves her hands ever so slightly into his hold and he’s holding both of them now, and they're looking into each other’s eyes.

“You think so?”

He nods, squeezing his grip gently. “Know so.” he brings her hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “We can make it.”

#hs1 masterlist #harry styles angst #harry styles writings

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serendipitywrites · 4 years

Text

Deceptions and Daisies (4)(m)

words 4.5k this chapter is pure smut and angst 🤡 (p.s. sorry this took so long, life has been crazy lately and I had some writers block I had to work through. Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

chapters (one, two, three )

After that last ‘fight’ you and Wooyoung had, you’ve been spending a lot of time with San.

he’s been stopping by after classes just to say hi, or even bringing your favorite snacks, since he, unfortunately, knows that you tend to forget to eat when you’re stressed. Sometimes he doesn’t really need a reason, he just likes to just relax with you, talking about everything and yet nothing.

He’s come to learn a lot about you in the past few weeks and you’re always amazed at how well he can read you and your emotions. You’ve been feeling so bare and open around him, and surprisingly it’s been a welcoming feeling, it’s been nice to just be… well, yourself again. It might be too soon, but he feels like one of your closest friends already. Honestly, San has even been around more than Wooyoung lately.

Your boyfriend would often visit his ‘ex’ and ‘just a dance friend’ then rather see you, it felt like.

although, after you had confronted Wooyoung, you feel like he has been putting in at least a little more effort for you both. It may seem pathetic to some, but you weren’t ready to give up, not after eight months of being happy and loving him. You admit you were feeling close to giving up, but after talking things over for hours and hours, you decided to give him another chance. Obviously, not everything was perfect and you weren’t expecting that, but the ups and downs are always what made you both stronger together, at least you feel that way.

‘Woo.. you’re so different lately. Are you really here with me? even when we’re together lately, I just feel so… alone’ insecurity laces your voice.

He sits across from you on the couch, letting your words sink in.

He looks at you and instead of denying it this time, he just puts his head in his hands and exhales.

He looks up after a few seconds, looking uneased.

‘I don’t feel like myself lately.. and I guess I was just hoping you didn’t notice’ he confesses.

‘Really? because It’s all I notice. I thought we didn’t keep things from each other, Woo’ you say surprised, mumbling the last words softly.

And for the first time in a while, he isn’t looking defensive over your honesty.

‘y/n, I haven’t been.. completely honest with you.’ he sounds anxious and you stare at him nervously, waiting.

‘I’ve been seeing Hana after work sometimes.. when I don’t come here’ he sounds ashamed, and in your current state of mind, he should be ashamed. You didn’t fall in love with this Wooyoung, the one who lies.

‘Why? Why are you seeing her, Woo? No more lies or we’re done, I swear. I can’t keep doing this’ you try your best to sound confident and not let your hurt show.

He looks at you with guilt and swallows hard ‘I swear we aren’t doing anything, not like that. We’ve just been talking and I’m helping her to dance’ he says like he hopes to convince you.

‘Then why? And why do you look so guilty?’ you implore.

‘...She said she still loves me’ he confesses.

Your heart sinks. You weren’t an idiot, you could tell there was something deeper left between them, but it still really fucking hurts.

‘And do you love her?’ you ask weakly.

‘I love you’ he replies quickly and with certainty.

‘That’s not what I asked, woo’ you feel your eyes start to water and you try desperately to keep him from noticing.

He stares at you so softly yet cautiously ‘y/n, listen to me. What I had with her.. It wasn’t ever really as genuine as I thought at the time. If I’m honest, I think we only got together because she was lonely. Besides that, she is my past and you are my now. I want this, I want you, and I want us.. For a long time, if you’ll still have me’ he meets your eyes.

Your chest is aching.

even if his words are reassuring, you know you can’t just keep forgiving him so easily.

‘I want us too, but I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore when you are with her more than me. I’m not dumb, Woo. I knew you were with her and I just... I can’t. This isn’t me, i’m not some cliche jealous girlfriend’ you trail off in a frustrated tone, feeling some tears drop from your eyes and meeting your cheeks. This isn’t how the talk was supposed to go, but is anything ever easy lately?

He pulls you into his arms and rests his head in the crook of your neck. ‘Just one more chance, I’ll do better. I’ll be the boyfriend you deserve. I’ll be good for you.’ you feel yourself tremble in his hold. his voice heavy with emotion, he breathes hotly onto your neck and presses a wet and gentle kiss against you ‘I love you, y/n’ you sigh and try to hide a slight sniffle ‘I love you too.. Please don’t make me regret this’

San tosses a french fry in your direction, it pulling you from your thoughts.

He sits at the edge of your bed with a small fast food bag, staring at you expectedly.

You can tell he just got out of class by the way his hair is slicked back and his cheeks are still a bit flushed. He's dressed in a loose tank top, which must be some of his workout clothes. He must have come by straight after teaching and that thought makes you all tender for some reason. It’s just that you know that San likes to go straight home after work or school, but instead, he went and got you some food and chose to spend time with you. It may seem little, but it means a lot to you. It’s your day off from work and even if you told him to just head home and relax, having him here feels really nice. You’ve spent the day in your pajama shorts and a baggy shirt and if it was any other friend then you’d feel nervous and under-dressed, but you know that San doesn’t care.

‘If you don’t eat your fries, then I will’ he shoves some fries in his mouth messily, being an absolute goof.

You toss the fry back at him and it hits his chest, he looks at you offended. ‘Shush. Now where’s our ketchup?’ you tease him and he smiles, his dimple showing.

He tosses you the bag softly. ‘Yes, princess, and I got your extra ketchup too. You know, I get some weird looks for taking over 25 ketchup packets, so you owe me.’

You scoot towards him and hug his back ‘you’re the best, Sannie, you know that?’ you say in a sing-songy voice. You suddenly feel your breasts rub against his back through your thin shirt and you stiffen, feeling embarrassed. You’re just hoping that he didn’t notice. (He’s just thankful you can’t see the blush on his face) He nudges you off of him and you fall back gently on your pillow ‘I mean something I actually want’

you poke his back with your socked foot in offense ‘Hey! I give good hugs. you’re sweaty anyways, so fine, whatever’ he laughs at your sassy behavior. ‘Come sit with me?’ you pat the pillow next to you, he obliges.

he rests his head against your headboard and shuffles a bit to get comfortable.

'so..' he tilts his head at you 'is Wooyoung coming over later?'

you nod a bit shyly 'yeah, he has tomorrow off so he's going to spend the night.' you smile, getting excited to spend some time with your boyfriend.

He gives you a small smile of acceptance ‘so things are back to normal?’

You shrug ‘I mean.. no? But he’s trying, we’re trying. He hasn’t been seeing… her as much’ you mumble carefully, not wanting to say her name. He understands, he doesn’t like her either.

‘She hasn’t been around the studio either. Maybe Woo finally stopped being an idiot.’

You chuckle ‘that idiot is my boyfriend, but yes, he’s an idiot, my idiot’

You both finish snacking and put on some anime on your laptop, watching it together on your bed. You’re both resting against your headboard when Sans phone goes off. He says to ignore it but then his phone keeps buzzing over and over, he sighs, looking irritated, he runs his hand through his blonde hair ‘I’ll be a minute’ he says sounding agitated and heads out of the room. You figure it must be important, so you pause the anime and wait for him.

After a few minutes, you get bored and grab your phone. You notice a few messages from Wooyoung.

Woo ♥ Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart

Woo ♥ Just a couple more hours ♥

Woo ♥ Want me to bring any food or snacks?

You see that his last message was about ten minutes ago and you decide to reply

sent Just bring yourself ♥ I just got some food, but thank you~! San brought me a burger and fries 🥳!

You get a response pretty quickly after sending that, surprisingly.

Woo ♥ Why is San there? Tonight is supposed to be our night.

Is he actually jealous right now? You aren’t sure what is going through his head so you send him another message

Sent Because he’s my friend? and he wanted to see me. We’re hanging out before you come over then he’s heading home, not that it even matters.

You send back, feeling slightly irritated.

Woo ♥

I just wanted you all to myself tonight, sweetheart. I can’t wait. Besides San has a date tonight, I'm sure he’ll be leaving soon.

You read his message over again, feeling taken aback a bit.

Before you have time to reply to Wooyoung, San makes it back in the room. He puts his phone on your dresser and relaxes against your pillow, he exhales tiredly.

Does he really have a date tonight? And why wouldn’t he tell you?

‘Everything okay?’ you ask him softly.

‘Yeah.. Yeosang just keeps trying to set me up on these blind dates and he doesn’t take no for an answer.’ he sighs.

‘I take it you got roped into one?’ you chuckle, feeling a weird sense of relief that he chose to share this with you.

‘This would be the third actually, He keeps picking his sisters friends and it’s already so awkward when we see him and his sister at parties, I guess she doesn’t take me not wanting to date her friends so easily.’ he looks tired.

You pat his head gently ‘i’m sure when the right person comes along, you’ll know’

He’s laying on your pillow while you have your back rested against the wall, your laptop sits in between you two.

He meets your eyes ‘I think so too’ he smiles, so damn sweetly. God, that dimple makes you so soft and you swear that he knows.

You both settle and watch some more anime, after a few episodes, he decides to head home, looking tired from his long day.

‘Be safe?’ you’re at your door telling him goodbye.

‘Always, princess’ he bows all cheesily.

You punch at his arm for teasing you and he catches your hand. ‘Too slow’ he laughs.

‘Once I get better reflexes, you’re done for’ you respond with far too much sass.

He’s still holding onto your hand when he pulls you in for a hug. The position you’re hugging him in has your arms wrapped around his neck rather than his waist. His arms wrap loosely around your waist.

Somehow, this hug feels… different

Your heart starts to beat faster. Of course, you don’t let yourself think too much into it, you can’t. Besides, this is San, one of Wooyoungs best friends.

He pulls you closer and your face rests against his shoulder.

‘I’m here if you need me. I’ll stop by again soon’

You both pull away from the hug tenderly.

‘Same, but I think you need might need me more, you know, to rescue you from your dates’ you offer and he gives a small laugh.

‘I’ll remember that’ he waves with a grin and heads out, the door clicking behind him.

You’re really glad he came over today.

After waving him off you head to the bathroom to take a shower before Wooyoung heads over, which should be in about an hour. The shower is calming yet exciting. Just knowing that you’re about to see your boyfriend has you so energetic.

After getting out, you put on some vanilla lotion (knowing that it was Wooyoungs favorite) and blow-dry your hair, you dab on some light lip gloss to finish it off. You decided to put on a sheer baggy sweater with a tank top underneath, knowing that you look cute. You kept your sleep shorts on, though. they are your favorite after all.

You pick up your apartment a little before he heads over, and of course feed your fish baby, Clem. Sometime after you finish cleaning you hear a knock on your front door and your heart jumps. Excited but anxious to see your boyfriend.

You pull open the door to see a tired and sweaty looking Wooyoung in front of you, in his hands he holds a small bag and a single red rose. You already feel yourself grinning at his antics.

‘Really? Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Jung?’

He smirks ‘depends, is it working?’

You pull him into your apartment and plant an aggressive kiss on his lips.

After pulling away, his lips try to chase yours again immediately.

‘So impatient already’ you tease.

‘It’s been 3 days, baby. I’m past impatient at this point.’ he whines and puts his bag down.

He hands you the rose and you blush a little bit. ‘Thanks..’ you mutter feeling slightly shy and he just softly kisses your forehead.

He heads towards the couch and pulls you with him. You end up sitting in between his legs as he lays on the couch. His black fluffy hair is parted so you can see his eyes.

‘You’re so pretty, sweetheart.’ he says with affection and you turn your head, feeling shy under his gaze. He notices and you being shy and pulls you down on his lap for a kiss.

You’re truly in awe of this man and god.. you’ve missed this so much. Just the both of you, no drama, no lies, no Hana, just the both of you being with one another.

With you on his lap and kissing him he eventually starts to slowly grind into you, his bulge already thick and hot. You realize soon after that he isn’t wearing anything under his loose joggers.

‘Really, Woo? Nothing under here?’ you ask in surprise and reach your hands down to where the outline of his briefs would be and he just smirks at you and grips your hips.

‘I missed you, sweetheart..’ and you let yourself fall into him, getting lost in lust and feeling some wetness drip out of you.

He puts his hands under your shorts and massages the swell of your ass with his fingers. You shiver at his touch, whining in his hold ‘really? Already?’ not expecting sex this soon.

‘Really’ he replies, voice thick with arousal. Suddenly he moves one of his hands lower and cups you through your panties, feeling the hotness of your cunt radiate. You moan needily and he slips a few fingers inside your panties, running his fingers through your obscene amount of wetness. It takes him far too long to slip the first finger inside of you and when he does, you absolutely crumble against him. You feel yourself soaking his hand and you couldn’t care less. He has two fingers curling against your insides and you want nothing more than to sit on this mans thick dick and have a mind-blowing orgasm.

Of course, he doesn’t let you cum yet, he just teases you until you’re about to scream in frustration. So, you find yourself reaching for his pants with a whine, trying desperately to get them off of him and you hear him chuckle at you. ‘Shut up.. Need you..’ you say deprived.

After a few more minutes of kissing and him having you at the precipice of an orgasm, he has enough and tugs your shorts off aggressively and with zero care where they end up.

He pulls your sweater off and you practically rip his shirt off of him.

‘Please?’ you whimper, him under you, watching you already fall apart for him.

He lowers his joggers just enough for you to get to his dick, moving quickly. You can tell he’s eager to get inside of you.

‘Shit’ he says breathily when his dick rubs against the slit of your wet and puffy cunt.

‘Condom?’ he asks gruffly and it surprises you. You and Wooyoung don’t use condoms… You haven’t since you both got tested, two months into your relationship. Also, you’ve always been on birth control, but you’re far too drunk with lust to think properly or question him so instead of replying you just grab his dick and angle it towards your entrance and drop down on him.

The moan he lets out reverberates through your apartment. He fills you up so perfectly. His thickness stretches you out and before dropping down on him again, you bring your fingers down to where you are both connected and whimper at the feeling. He must get be getting impatient, because he grips your hips hard enough to bruise and thrusts up into you, fully sheathing himself inside of you.

Sweat drips from his forehead as he starts to fuck you harder, and after a few minutes he gets impatient and you get on your knees for him, anxious for him to get back inside of you, your wetness dripping down your thighs. You both sigh in relief when he finally gets back in.

He’s pounding you from behind and you feel his fingertips already bruising your hips, but you honestly love it. The way his cock drags against your insides has you nearly in tears and you whine, pushing back on his cock. He catches your hips mid-thrust and helps guide you back onto him even harder. The meat of his thighs slaps against your ass so deliciously.

He’s grunting behind you, holding onto you possessively ‘yeah? Like my cock, sweetheart?’ he asks huskily. You trail off in response, sounding a pitiful mess, almost in tears ‘yes, the best’ tears fall from your eyes and you can tell from behind you that he’s getting close already. ‘No one can make you feel this good?’ he asks again, his tone dominant and intense, his voice deep. ‘Just you..’ he knows how easily he can make you fall apart. you grip your hands harder onto the couch and you’re having a hard time thinking straight with him fucking you so hard, just then he reaches his hand towards your front and starts to rub circles onto your clit. You are delirious at this point. He knows that you’re close and spreads your legs further, giving him room to abuse your puffy clit. Your peak is coming and you can’t form words at this point ‘only I can make you feel this good’ he whispers in your ear with certainty and determination. You’re not exactly in the right state of mind to wonder why he’s being so dominant, with your orgasm at arms reach. You’re whining and writhing under him, and with a slight pinch to your clit you find yourself cumming on his cock. You practically scream form the strength of it and he moans loudly behind you, fucking into you ruthlessly, his sweat dripping on your back. Just when you think he’s about to cum, he pulls out of you and finishes outside of you. Moaning loudly, he milks himself onto your ass. You feel cold all of a sudden.

Why did he pull out? He is obviously oblivious, basking in his afterglow. But you’re laying there confused.

‘Thanks, baby.. I needed that.’ he grabs some tissues to clean you up and softly flips you on your back on the couch. You see him all flushed and red from fucking you, his hair curled slightly from sweating. ‘...I did too. You didn’t come inside, though’ you say with a pout, feeling almost silly. He smiles at you ‘was my little slut wanting to be filled up?’ you turn to your side and he senses your mood slightly shifting, he comes to sit next to you on the couch. You’re still laying there mostly naked with his cum still dripping down your thighs. ‘I wasn’t even really thinking. I just know it can get messy’ you turn to him ‘well, don’t do that.’ he chuckles at you. ‘Never again, my love.’ after that, you both take a shower together, he rubs your back and kisses at the back of your neck, which has you giggling and pulling away. Being ticklish isn’t exactly romantic, you feel like.

He stays in the bathroom a bit longer and you decide to get your laptop and put on something for you both.

You hear a buzzing coming from the living room, realizing it’s Wooyoungs phone. With things being more at ease now, you feel comfortable grabbing his phone and heading to the bathroom door to knock ‘Woo, your phone is going off. Is your hair dry yet?’

After you say that it buzzes again and by accident you see who it’s from, only seeing a snippet of a couple of messages.

Hana Are you done yet?

Hana I miss you.

The last message is what shocks you the most.

Hana Why won’t you just tell her already??

You drop his phone loudly as he opens the bathroom door, some steam coming out.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ he sees you looking pale-faced and stunned. He looks worried.

Ha, worried? You thought.

‘I saw your messages’ You say bluntly. You’ve had enough with being timid and calm about this. You’re done.

He suddenly looks nervous ‘my messages?’ he asks, looking confused.

‘Yes, your messages. Now get the fuck out of my apartment’ you say with conviction.

He just stares at you, his jaw slightly dropped.

‘I don’t think you read what you think you did’ he says calmly.

You scoff at him, looking at him like he thinks you’re some sort of idiot ‘really? Because according to Hana you have something to tell me, what might that be?’

‘Look, y/n, we need to talk but -’

You cut him off in frustration ‘I can’t with these lies. I fucking can’t anymore’ you break off and feel some tears of frustration fall out of your face, which you try hiding from him. ‘did you really come by just to fuck me and then leave me?’

he looks baffled ‘what are you talking about y/n?’

a few seconds pass and he decides to try again.

‘Can we please sit down and talk?’ he asks exasperatedly.

‘Why? So you can tell me that we’re over, or that you did in fact cheat on me?’ ‘I trusted you, I really did. You knew what I went through.’

Instead of responding he just stares at you sadly. He has the audacity to look guilty, to look upset at this.

‘Please leave.. Please. I can’t do this, not tonight, not any more’

‘y/n, please listen to me, just hear me out-’ he tries to explain, at least you think he’s trying to explain, but you can’t bear to even hear his voice right now.

‘Please! Please leave!’ you wail.

‘I can’t leave you like this, I can’t.’ he says desperately, trying to reason with you. His body trying to inch closer to you and you pull back quickly, not wanting to be touched by him.

You let out a wet laugh

‘Sure you can, you’ve done it before.’ you know it was a low blow, but you honestly don’t fucking care how he feels right now.

‘Leave. I’m calling San.’ he scoffs at you, looking far too pissed off, something changes in his aura at the mention of his friend. ‘what a fucking surprise. The moment I leave, you call San, just like clockwork. You know for getting mad at me for spending time with someone else, you look pretty fucking hypocritical.’ he seethes.

Before you can even think it over, your hand meets his cheek. He stares at you in complete shock. ‘I would never do anything to betray you, Wooyoung. I love you so fucking much it drives me insane. I let you in, I never do that. I would never stoop that low. oh, and San? Your best friend? He’s a good person, and fuck you for thinking that he would do something so malicious’ you say then fall onto the floor and break into a sob. Barely able to breathe. this snaps Wooyoung out of his sudden anger and again, he tries to come comfort you and you just beg him to leave. Regretfully, he gives up and leaves, knowing that he can’t do anything to help you, not now. he did this to you, and as much as he wants to comfort you, he doesn’t deserve to. he tells you how much he loves you and how fucking sorry he is before he leaves in shame and remorse. You need time, he’ll try to give that to you. in the meantime, you’re left on the floor, in an absolute mess, having trouble breathing from the strength of your cries.

After catching your breath finally muster some energy to call San, trying to calm down enough to talk.

He answers after a few rings ‘Hey you, I was just thinking of you, I saw the weirdest goldfish at the -’

He stops talking when he realizes that you aren’t responding and he just hears harsh breathing on the other line.

‘You okay, princess?’ you just sob in response and that was all that he needed. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just breathe. Can you unlock the door for me? That’s all you need to do.’ he says gently. ‘Unlocked already’ you sniffle.

‘Just ten minutes.’ and he hangs up after a minute, promising to hurry.

There was some slight traffic, so San ends up getting there about 20 minutes later. The sight he finds upon entering the apartment is you on the floor, at the edge of your bed, curled into a circle with a bra and your sleeping shorts on, hickeys covering your neck and chest.

He doesn’t even need to ask to know that whatever happened was Wooyoungs fault.

He carries you as softly as possible to your bed, doing his best not to wake you since he knew whatever happened - you’d need the energy later to deal with it.

All he knew, was that he was about to break his friend’s nose.

#ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #san angst #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez #ateez fluff #EVENTUALLY #wooyoung #san #fanfiction #ateez fanfic #🤡#deceptions and daisies

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