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#He asks if she remembers him but before she can answer
corkinavoid · 2 days
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I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so
DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids
Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.
"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.
Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.
All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.
The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.
Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.
"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.
Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.
"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.
"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."
"John, what-"
"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."
Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.
"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."
The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.
"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.
His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.
John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-
"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."
Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.
The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.
"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.
Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.
He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.
Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.
"Do they have names?"
[part 2 ->]
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inkchwe · 12 hours
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so high school | 𝖑𝖍𝖘
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୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, nerd!reader, tutor!au, high school au, oral (f + m receiving), penetration (all characters are of age!), light choking ୨୧ synopsis: You and your boyfriend are complete opposites on paper—you, the girl hidden inside a book, and Heeseung, the star of the basketball team—but it feels so right every time you’re together.
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Heeseung at the free-throw line, certain he will make the basket and win the championship, turns to look at you in the stands. The sounds of his coach, taunts from the opposing team, encouragement of his teammates, and commotion of the final game of the season all fade into the background. To him, all that matters besides the ball in his hands is you.
You, amongst the others in the crowd with their hearts in their mouths, have no fears for your boyfriend. The star player who’s going to make history has never given you doubts before in his talents. All you can do is smile, incredibly proud and incredulous at the thought that he is all yours and nobody else’s.
It’s almost unimaginable how the two of you found each other, coming from completely different worlds. But like all stories, similar to the ones you’ve read since childhood, the story of you and Heeseung has a clear beginning…
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AUGUST
“Do you ever stop to—I don’t know—not read?” Jungwon asks, jotting down notes in his notebook.
You giggle and flip the page. “It’s the last book on Choi’s summer reading list. Besides,” you retort, looking directly at your best friend, “how else would I be able to read and still remember what you just said to me if I didn’t practice?”
“Fuck off.” You lightly knock his shoulder with yours.
Even though it was still very early in the school year, you still had a lot to concentrate  on with the month coming to an end. Like the first novel Mrs. Choi selected on her extensive reading list. You planned to discuss it with the members of the school’s book club, your notes already tucked in your backpack for today’s Friday meeting.
Now, sitting with Jungwon in the hallway as you eat your lunch, your focus is solely on finishing the last fifty pages of the last book in the list Mrs. Choi created. Jungwon closes his notebook and gets up from his spot next to you. “Alright, I gotta head to Chem.  I’ll see you after school!” With a wink, he runs down the hallway and disappears down the corner.
Who you don’t expect to pop up next to disturb the sudden quiet of the surrounding area is Lee Heeseung, star shooting guard for the school’s basketball team. You never spoke to him before, but his reputation and family’s legacy preceded him. His brother was the shooting guard for the team years ago, breaking numerous records before he graduated. Now, Heeseung’s definitely filling his brother’s shoes and then some.
As a person, however, you know nothing about the boy at all. This year, though, you shared the same English class with Mrs. Choi. She cared little for his extracurriculars or persona around campus; what mattered to her was the effort of her students and the quality of the classwork.
Heeseung passes you by on his way towards his destination, not sparing a glance. You sit attentively as he knocks on Mrs. Choi’s classroom door.
She answers after a moment, a somber smile on her lips. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lee?”
He clears his throat and asks her, “You saw my message and I—“
“I am aware, Mr. Lee. My response still stands. Is there something else you need?” Mrs. Choi sees you out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t acknowledge your snooping.
“I will do anything to correct my last assignment. Please,” Heeseung begs.
“Mr. Lee, the cutoff for submissions was last week. I’m sorry, but your grade is final.” She sighs and looks at her watch.
“There’s nothing I can do to bring it up before the first game?” Heeseung asks, his voice growing thin from his frustration. He’s not rude, but clearly disappointed he isn’t getting his way with his big eyes and pleading words.
“How about this? I’ll tell Coach Sung you’re working on a paired project to make up the grade.”
“Perfect.” Heeseung breathes a sigh of relief before he takes in the rest of her sentence. “Wait, who’s my partner?”
Mrs. Choi extends her arm out to point in your direction. Immediately, you want to tuck yourself in your book and hide. You did not intend for your interest in their conversation to put you right in the middle of it, and now you wish you hadn’t feigned curiosity at all.
“She’s one of my best students, so you’re in great hands.” She turns her head so both you and Heeseung can hear her. “I’ll send both of you the information for the project later today.”
You didn’t notice Heeseung had kept his focus on you until you broke your stare-off with Mrs. Choi. Her lips are upturned in a secret smirk when you turn your attention to him.
Heeseung isn’t bad to look at, the definition of his muscles peeking out of his shirt in multiple places and his brown hair falling into his face. Each piece of his physical being represents the epitome of a Greek god’s form. But the fact neither of you had ever interacted up to this point is what scares you more than his intimidatingly good looks.
When Mrs. Choi gently closes the door, Heeseung awkwardly walks over to your position, towering over you. Ironically, his presence physically embodies your feelings towards him, this stranger now being shoved into your life.
“I’m Heeseung.”
You give him a close-lipped smile and extend your hand out to him, your name leaving your lips immediately. Displaying fake confidence, you hope he can’t tell how terrified you are.
His eyes brighten when his hand touches yours. You stand up, hand still in his, and the feeling of his palm against yours causes you to fumble your next words. “S-so I guess I should give you my number. I mean so once we get the assignment—“
Heeseung smirks. “Usually girls flirt a little more before asking for my number.”
You scoff and tuck your book closer. “I was offering to give you mine, actually. For educational purposes.”
The noise of his laughter fills the small corridor. “Right.”
You roll your eyes, suddenly feeling annoyance creeping under your skin. “Well, if it’s that hard to swap information, you can find me after school in the library.” You walk away, but Heeseung follows quickly behind.
“I have practice once the last bell rings.”
You look at him with serious eyes, not bothering to stop your stride towards the stairs. “Tell Coach you can’t make it.”
“Are you nuts?” Heeseung says, eyes wide.
You smirk. “You have to get your grade up to play, right?”
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You watch the clock in the library with scrutiny. Members of the book club have been gone for half an hour, but you chose to stay behind. School let out an hour ago, and yet you’re still holding out hope Heeseung will come. But every minute that goes by proves you have to face facts: you’re now forced to collaborate with a stereotypical jock.
Mr. Kim, the head librarian, puts the disorganized books on the shelves as you tap your pencil on the table. “Waiting for someone? You don’t usually stick around this late,” Mr. Kim says with a smile.
You grin back, the sentiment not reaching your eyes. “You could say that.”
After another ten minutes of silence, you give up. You begin packing up your belongings, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself the entire time. Curse your interest in the guy and his lack of care for his academics. No wonder his grade was in the tank already. What was the point of athletics if he didn’t have other prospects to fall back on?
Just as you’re walking out of the library, Heeseung runs into you. Sweat’s dripping from his forehead and his breaths are labored. Clearly, he chose basketball over your project. You want to punch him for putting you both in this position.
“I swear I was going to blow off practice,” Heeseung says, but he can see your doubt in his words on your face.
“Sure. How about this? Figure out how to do the project on your own.” You press your body into his to push him out of your way. He follows in suit and rubs the spot you shoved, pretending to be wounded.
It only fuels your ire. You’ve only spoken to the jerk twice and you’re already tired of him treating every word you say and feeling you have like a joke. “Is failing that amusing to you?”
Heeseung’s expression immediately goes cold. “I’m not failing.”
“Sure. So Choi’s just doing this to torture you.”
He weighs his response in his mind before answering. “I may not be perfect, but Choi is really hard on grading.”
“That first assignment was just about what your future looks like after high school.” You push your backpack over your arm. “Excuse her for thinking you had plans outside of throwing a ball around a field.”
That laugh of his may just be the end of your life. He chuckles hard and puts a hand out to stop you. “First of all, that’s football.” He tries to make you look at him directly, but you refuse, too angry to give into what he wants. 
He continues anyway. “Second, basketball is my life. Past, present, future, okay? Without it, I don’t even know where I’d be.”
His voice is sincere, more honest than it’s been before. Regardless, your understanding and disappointment is evident. “Don’t you think that that’s the problem?”
“It hasn’t been one before. Suddenly I say it out loud and it’s an issue?” Heeseung’s voice raises a decibel, clearly agitated and back to his cold exterior.
If he wants to fight about this, you’re game.
“No,” you say, matching his vocal level. “The issue is that your focus is solely on basketball when there’s more important things in life than a dumbass court and sweaty guys trying to make touchdowns.” 
“You’re mixing up your sports analogies, angel.” Heeseung steps closer, testing your boundaries. Your chest heaves up and down, your breath labored. You may just slap him if he gets closer.
“You know what I mean.”
“Are you going to help me or not?” A fraction of his expression slips. His eyes challenge you in both irritation and anxiety. The bravado’s merely a mask for the fear that he’ll lose the one thing he wants the most in this world. And did you have it in you to be the reason he couldn’t have it?
You sigh and rub your palm across your forehead. “Tomorrow, meet me at the marketside pier. 8 AM. Take it or leave it.”
He releases a humorless chuckle. “You’re not gonna make this easy are you?”
“Not on your life.”
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Heeseung is there at one of the pier’s wooden picnic tables with his materials sprawled out when you arrive at 7:45. You weren’t expecting for him to be there on time, much less earlier than you. The sun reflects off of his hair, turning the brown curls almost orange. Like the first time you saw him, you can’t help but be reminded that he is painstakingly attractive.
You give him a shy smile and put your backpack down next to you.
“I can tell you’re surprised,” Heeseung says with a small smile.
“A bit, yeah.” You unzip your bag to grab your English textbook. “I thought on the weekends you typically do…’fitness stuff.’” He laughs at your air quotes.
“Well, to be honest, I wake up at 6 AM every morning for drills with my dad.”
Your eyes go wide. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Like you said, my sole focus is on that damn ball,” Heeseung says, opening his own textbook. “But I want to change that.”
“So you can keep playing,” you remind him, teasing the poor guy.
“Half true,” Heeseung says. “But I shouldn’t have left you hanging, yesterday.”
You nod. “I appreciate your apology.” You grab a pencil from your bag, pushing on the eraser until the lead pops up. “And I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. You have to be good at stuff besides basketball, even if it’s not studying.”
“Hey! I’m doing well in all my other classes, thank you very much.” You both share a minute of laughter. “But, to be honest, I do like to sing.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, Troy Bolton.”
“For real! One day, I’ll take you to karaoke. I won’t make fun of you if you can’t keep up with me.”
“Okay, we’ll see.” You direct his focus back on to the page. “Now, onto Shakespeare.”
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SEPTEMBER
Although Heeseung took his sweet, laborious time to translate and understand Shakespeare’s old English, the project went off without a hitch. Mrs. Choi was even surprised herself, in disbelief you pulled such an expansive and well-thought analysis out of the quintessential jock.
Now, it seemed the best next step to keep Heeseung on the right track was to sit him right next to you. Your initial partnership continued to benefit him in both his success in English and focus on academics, possibly for the first time in his high school career.
Better than that, he may have found a new friend in you that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.
By the end of one Tuesday class, Heeseung asks you to have lunch with him and his friends, a request that makes your previous seating buddy in English, Yujin, freak out.
Both her and Jungwon corner you on your way out when you tell them the news.
“No fucking way,” she whispers excitedly, slapping you on the back with vigor.
“That hurt,” you moan.
“Are you prepared?” Jungwon asks, smirking.
“Prepared for what?”
“The lion’s den, dude! You’re gonna be with not just his douche friends, but also the cheerleaders, other sports players…be prepared for the worst,” Jungwon grumbles.
“Oh shut up, Won!” Yujin threatens to hit him too, but he retracts. “Have fun on your pseudo first date.”
“It’s not a date!”
By the time lunch comes around, you hold yours with shaky hands, searching the lunch courtyard for the jock’s table. You usually sat with Jungwon or Yujin in the hallway of the English department to eat. Now, you’re a small fish in a big pond, waiting to be eaten alive.
Was it, in fact, a date, like your friends hypothesized? Did you have to try and impress Heeseung more than normal? Did you want Heeseung to take you on a date, real or fake, to begin with?
"Hey!"
Heeseung waves you over with a confident but over-exaggerated arm, flapping it wildly so you notice. He didn't need to do that, though; you could pick out his voice in any crowd.
You walk over with a smile and sit down, feeling small next to the strangers you had not met until this moment. The basketball team's not unwelcome, but they are awkward at your sudden presence at their usual lunch table, even if Heeseung made it known beforehand that you would be hanging out with them to eat.
He says your name and introduces you to his friends. "And that's Sunghoon, Jeongsong, and Jaeyun." You recognize the last two, Jay and Jake. Jake, the strikingly blonde one, has Chemistry with you this year. He smiles and tips his soda can at you in acknowledgement.
"Hee was telling us you’ve been saving him this term in English. Choi can be a pain in the ass, am I right?" Sunghoon and Jeongsong share a laugh, but you bristle at the comment.
"Not really," you say. "Choi sponsors my book club, so we have a good relationship. I think that's why she wanted me to whip Heeseung into shape in the first place." You elbow Heeseung in the side, and he grins in response.
"She's probably right."
"Book club kid, huh?" Jake asks. "Haven't been one of those since elementary school."
Jake's comments make the entire team laugh. Your cheeks turn pink and Heeseung takes a sip from his drink, his posture stiffening in the process.
"It's not a bad thing though," Jake interjects amidst their laughter. "Books are fun."
"A bit nerdy, though," Sunghoon comments.
A girl next to Sunghoon smacks him hard in the arm, but he just pokes his tongue at her.
Your anxiety spikes sitting there with all of these people, your gut feelings a reminder that they’re all a part of Heeseung’s world, not yours.
You clear your throat and stand up from the table. “I forgot to say, Hee, I have to do something for Choi anyway.” Heeseung’s face turns down at the corners. The only audible response you receive is from Jay and Sunghoon in the form of snickers.
”Run along, pet,” Sunghoon comments with a smirk.
You hope your eyes give the offense you won’t bother saying out loud. Fuck off, asshole.
When you make it to your usual lunch spot, Yujin and Jungwon are surprised to see you walking down the hallway.
”What happened?” Yujin asks.
”Exactly what Won said was going to happen,” you confess, sitting down in a criss-cross position beside her. “Now give me your chips.”
When the end of the day comes around, Heeseung catches you on your usual trek to the bus. “You’re forgiven, by the way.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What did I do?”
”You left me alone with my shithead teammates! I needed you there for backup, y’know.” He smirks and grabs your backpack from your shoulder to put around his arm. “I’m sorry about them. Sunghoon, mostly.”
”Can’t believe you’re friends with that guy,” you mumble.
”He’s the only one who I’m not friends with, truthfully. The others are cool. They’re just not used to new people.”
”I never would have guessed.”
Heeseung’s laugh is hearty, with a dazzling smile to match. You can almost forget the heap of embarrassment you felt earlier when you look at him like this, carefree and youthful.
“Anyway, let me give you a ride,” he offers, pointing to the senior parking lot. His car is freshly washed, its coat of paint identical to the school’s colors of blue with silver accents.
”What will your friends say?” you ask with a fake gasp.
”Fuck them. Besides, you’re also one of my friends. Now let’s go.” He takes your hand to walk in the direction of his car, not releasing your palm until you’re at his passenger side door.
As you give him directions, your mind goes back to the labels you had been running through in your mind all day. Were you Heeseung’s friend? Yes. Did you want to be more? Surely he didn’t just ask anyone to have lunch with him and his friends if he didn’t have other intentions, right? So, in that case, did yours match his?
A part of you wants to say yes, but the rational piece keeps you in check. It’s ridiculous to expect more than a friendship. How could you when it was so obvious your worlds were so far from each other, your friendship a simple fluke? You were grateful for his presence in your life, knowing without him it would be a bit darker, but would it last?
Yet here you were. Sitting happily in his car, hair blowing in the wind as his thumb grazes the outside of your hand, you try to enjoy all the time you do have together.
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OCTOBER
”This is ridiculous!”
”Come on, just try it!”
”When did I ever say I was good at sports?” You groan, holding the ball in your hands with nervous fingers. The basketball court at your local park is occupied only by you and Heeseung, but it feels as though there’s a thousand people in the metal stands watching you, waiting for you to mess up.
”You said if I passed the last test you would let me show you how to make a free throw.” Heeseung has his hands in his pockets, his letterman jacket flapping in the autumn wind.
“If I suck at this, you’re never going to talk to me again. Just watch.” You try to dribble the ball across the court, but it falls between your legs before you can travel any further.
Heeseung puts his face behind his hand, clearly chuckling to himself. You scoff at him and the response you saw coming the second he put the ball in your hands. “See? I told you you would think I’m embarrassing!”
He raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just cute, that’s all.”
”’Cute’ is probably the nicest way you could say I’m embarrassing.” You kick the basketball in his direction. He catches it without any effort, his face still shaped in a state of enjoyment.
”I said cute because I meant cute, you dork.” He steps to the free-throw line and motions for you to join him. You do, grumbling and grunting the entire way.
”Now, you have to relax. The only way you have half a shot at making the basket is if you stop tensing up.” He hands you the ball again and steps behind you.
He puts his hands on your hips. his palms soft against your hoodie. You can practically feel the heat of his skin through the material of your clothing, and you hope he can’t tell how much your heartbeat has spiked from him being so close to you.
”Next thing is to bend your knees. They can’t be locked up.” You listen to his words, trying not to focus on how his body is making yours react. You may be imagining it, but even his voice sounds a bit breathless from the small distance between yourself and him.
His lips are ghosting over your ear when he says, ”Now shoot.”
You release the ball from your hands, hoping the angle of your throw and Heeseung’s directions will prove you’re partially competent. 
And sure enough, the basket makes it in a single whoosh. You turn in Heeseung’s grasp, releasing a happy cheer. “That was amazing!”
You feel the rush of the shot in your veins, but suddenly the only thing that makes your body hum in pleasure is the sudden crash of Heeseung’s lips against yours.
Unsure how to react, you stand there frozen in place as his mouth moves on its own accord. But slowly, surely, happily, you fall deeply into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel the press of his tongue against your mouth, begging for entrance.
You comply, letting the feeling of him and the thrill of this private moment in both of your worlds fill you to the brim with quiet pleasure and happiness.
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[LHS] Can we talk, please?
[LHS] Did I do something wrong??
[LHS] IDC if you don’t respond. I’ll keep texting until you say something…
[LHS] Don’t leave me hanging :(
You sigh and throw your phone to the other side of the bed, tucking your comforter closer to your chest. Deciding to stay home from school was probably not the best way to handle your problems, but just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re sensible all the time.
This weekend’s excursion with Heeseung was beautiful, no doubt. But the fears continued to creep in with little regard for how happy he made you that day or all the days that came before it. Would how he felt about you last any longer than his basketball season? Did he entertain this simply for the fact that it was entertainment and nothing more? 
The thoughts had been too much when you said goodbye to him on your doorstep with another hasty, giddy kiss and all the hours following it. Maybe you were self-sabotaging, but it was better to manage expectations now than be crushed in the aftermath.
When Yujin calls you during lunch, you have half a mind to ignore it. You answer anyway to avoid your friends thinking something drastic happened.
”Hello,” you mumble, the effects of your late morning nap hitting you.
”Dude, Heeseung’s on a tear today. He even asked Jungwon where you were, and I didn’t even think he knew the kid existed. What the hell happened on Saturday?”
Before you can respond, you hear the sound of your doorbell. “I gotta go. I’ll tell you later.” You hang up, hastily grabbing your fuzzy robe before running downstairs.
You don’t bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, but you curse yourself for not doing so when you’re confronted with Heeseung. He’s a sweaty and panting mess, but he doesn’t care for his appearance. His face morphs into relief when he sees you staring back at him.
”Thank God,” he says before stepping closer to you. He runs his hand over your forehead, frowning. “You’re not sick.”
You shake your head.
”So, you just ignore me all weekend and then don’t show up to school today?”
You sigh. “I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”
He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. “So you chose not to see me at all? Was kissing me that terrible?
”No!” You run a frustrated hand through your hair, the spot in your hallway suddenly too cramped. You push him back outside and close the door behind you. “I don’t regret it at all. And I’d do it again if I could.”
Heeseung smirks at that, clearly happy with your response. “So, what’s the problem?”
”The problem is that when you get bored of me, things won’t go back to normal for me like they will for you, Hee. You may think this is a game but—“
Heeseung’s sudden laugh is marked with a bitterness. His eyes grow serious, so much so your words stop short because of his stone expression
”Do you think that little of me?”
Your body tenses at his words, unsure how to respond. You have never thought of him as lesser than once, not since getting to know him. But maybe only looking at your feelings regarding your relationship compromised his own in the process.
He steps closer, your faces an inch apart. “Two months ago, I didn’t realize how much my life was going to change because of you. All I thought about before was basketball. And now, you’re one of the only things outside of that damn game that matters to me. When I haven’t talked to you or seen you for too long it’s like there’s this rock in my gut that I can’t get rid of. I kissed you because I wanted to, not for fun or because it’s this momentary thing.
”So, if you still think I’m going to get bored of you in a few days or weeks or months, then you really aren’t as smart as I thought you were, angel. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Breathless would be too small of a word to describe how his speech affects you. You feel the same buzz of his kiss from a few days throughout your entire body from his words alone. It makes every worry and fear that has plagued you evaporate, replaced with his promises and all the reasons you should jump in headfirst without another thought.
So you do.
You kiss him hard, crashing into his lips and hoping all of the feelings he harbors reflect in the actions of your mouth. You hold onto him with your hands on his neck and the smoothness of your lips in a beautiful rhythm with each other.
Whatever happens next, you know there’s no turning back now.
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NOVEMBER
“And Sim, our prime point-guard, passes to Lee. Lee has ten seconds to make another three pointer and win the game. Will he do it? Time to find out!” Kim Sunwoo screams into the microphone, broadcasting the highlights of the semi-final game to the many listeners not attending in-person.
Lucky for you, you have the perfect spot in the stands to watch Heeseung make the winning basket and lead the team to victory.
The crowd roars when your boyfriend secures the team’s spot in the championship game. His teammates lift him up above their heads and shoulders, chanting his name and holding him with all of their strength. Heeseung immediately searches the crowd for you, his excitement fueling his newfound focus.
When he does see you, clapping your hands and cheering with the rest of the bystanders, he kisses the inside of his palm and shoots it in your direction like he’s making another basket. Your heart squeezes at the gesture, but you only blush and wink.
Ever since that day on your doorstep, you can’t seem to separate yourself from him or the feelings he stirs up inside of you. The thought and reality of not seeing or hearing from him for too long immediately dampens your spirits, just like Heeseung described to you when he confessed. Jungwon calls you “lovesick fools” every time you both are in his presence, but it’s not that. The love you feel for your boyfriend is one that strengthens every sense, impulse, and desire. Without it and him, that’s when you feel the weakest. And every time Heeseung smiles at you or holds you close, you can tell he feels the same.
Whether your worlds were the exact same or as different as they possibly could be, you both made your own perfectly fit for just the two of you.
The outside world has to creep in every once in a while, though.
At the end of the night, Heeseung’s arm is wrapped perfectly around you as you walk. You discuss your shared plans for the night and subsequent weekend since your parents are away at a work conference. Heeseung stops short when he sees his father waiting at his car with crossed arms.
“Good job, Hee,” He says first and foremost. “Saw you lost a bit of steam in the third quarter, though. We’ll have to do some more conditioning before the final.”
And there it was. The judgment you saw so often in conversations between Heeseung and his father that made you ache for the boy you loved. As his father, he should’ve been proud to see his sons succeeding, one of them off and playing for a world-renowned team and the other on his way there. Instead, all they received was judgment. It wasn’t your place, but you couldn’t wait for the day Heeseung stood up to him.
“At least I made the winning basket, right?” Heeseung shrugs off the criticism with a laugh and holds you closer. “We have to go eat, so—“
“Of course.” His father moves out of your way. “Lovely to see you again, darling,” He says to you with a small smile as he opens the passenger door for you. You return his greeting, suddenly uncomfortable with how close he is.
On your drive to your house, you try to help Heeseung destress with a hand on his thigh. “Don’t let him get to you,” you say sadly.
He smiles and gives you a knowing stare. “I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. He doesn’t have that power anymore.” He takes your hand from his thigh to hold it tightly in his own palm. “Besides, I’m one step closer to the championship and I got my girl next to me. Nothing’s getting in the way of my good night.”
You set your backpacks down at the door when you step inside your house. Heeseung follows you to the kitchen. While you’re finding the flier with the number of your favorite takeout restaurant, Heeseung presses his lips to your neck. The trail of his kisses going from the back of your ear to the start of your collarbone makes you shiver.”
“Hee,” you warn him. “We won’t be able to eat if you keep distracting me.”
“Food is the second priority,” he responds, lips feathering your skin. “Right now, we need to celebrate the championship.”
“The championship is still three weeks away.”
“If we both know I’m going to win, what’s the point of delayed gratification?” He pulls the sleeve of your shirt down to expose the top of your shoulder, kissing that area too to make your body thrum with pleasure.
“Speaking of that…” You turn to face Heesung, pressing your back against the counter. “I guess we can celebrate something tonight besides your impending win.”
Heeseung raises an eyebrow.
“I got early acceptance to Sky.”
Heeseung’s eyes immediately light up at your announcement. He pulls you in by the waist and spins you around the tiny space between your kitchen island and the fridge.
When the topic of college came up, it was as good a time as any for the two of you to discuss your future plans with each other. As fate would have it, Heeseung planned to play for Sky University’s basketball team next year, and you were waiting on your official acceptance letter when you both started dating.
Now, Heeseung would have the two most important things to him in the next chapter of his life. The boy’s over the moon, as any other person would be.
Heeseung lifts you over his shoulder, immediately heading in the direction of the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He laughs off your mock protest.
He knows for certain he’s in love with you. It may not be the perfect time to say it, especially before he’s about to ravish you, but the perfect time will come when it feels right.
He doesn’t say it when he strips you bare for only his eyes as he kisses you senseless, shocked and grateful your body is for him and him alone to see and cherish. He doesn’t say it as you kiss every inch of his bare chest to send him into a rambling mess of praises and curses.
Somehow, stupidly, the words slip out when your mouth is wrapped around his cock, tongue flat against the underside of his tip as he feels the back of your throat against him.
“Fuck, I love you so much.”
The air stills, both your bodies going rigid at the sudden confession that has just left his lips. But, instead of running scared, you take your mouth off of him and stare deeply into his eyes, smiling wide. “What’d you say?”
Heeseung breathes out a sigh of relief, suddenly taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you in that hallway. I just didn’t know it yet.”
You giggle and press another kiss to his lips. He sees a tear leave your eye, and he wipes it away gently with his thumb. “I love you, too, Heeseung.”
You fall back into a steady rhythm of kissing and touching, Heeseung’s hands roaming the skin of your stomach, the swell of your breasts, and the cleft between your thighs, making you moan.
“Let me show you how much I love you,” Heeseung whispers against your lips.
He lays you flat on your back, kissing what areas he hasn’t touched yet with his hands. He needs you to know, in every moment, he chooses you and will never stop choosing to be with you.
If he had to make the choice to either give up the game or you, he would choose the former in a heartbeat. His dad, his friends, and even fate may say it’s young love and you haven’t been in his life as long as basketball has, but they don’t see him the way you do.
Even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he doesn’t have to. 
When Heeseung finally presses his lips to your clit, kissing the nub with adoration, your legs shake at the contact. You instantly run your fingers into his hair. “Fuck,” you curse, the word rarely slipping from your lips save for moments like these.
The first time you had been together, Heeseung didn’t know exactly how to touch you without being terrified it was too much. But now he knows all the ways to turn you into a beautiful mess.
He licks languidly across your center and through your folds, keeping the perfect pace for you to ride your hips against his mouth. He inserts a finger into your entrance after coating the digit in the arousal already pooling at your center. You, typically so put together, are ready to fall apart at the simple press of his mouth against you.
Heeseung knows he can get you off this way, without question. And most nights, he doesn’t mind when you’re the only one who receives pleasure. But tonight, you moan out a request that he can’t say no to.
“Heeseung, please. I want you inside me when I come.” He doesn’t have to be told what to do twice when it’s the best command he’s heard all night.
He takes your mouth in his, holding your jaw in his hand and slightly applying pressure to the side of your neck. A half-empty moan leaves your lips at the sudden contact. To him, the sounds that you make are their own form of poetry, better than anything you’ve read to him all year.
Heeseung quickly grabs a foil packet from your bedside drawer to put on himself, protection being the one thing you can’t forget in the midst of your desire for each other. Lining himself up with your entrance, he thinks you could not look more beautiful with your half-lidded eyes and eager hands grabbing onto his hips to finally push him inside of you.
When he does ease in, he swallows the curse prepared to leave your mouth with his lips. It’s an indescribable feeling, the stretch and pull of your walls taking him in completely. Although you’ve been together many times before this night, it’s still a novelty Heeseung does not take for granted.
He takes his time establishing a rhythm, loving the pants and whimpers you emit because of him and for him. He holds his hand on your throat, his thumb going into your mouth for you to wrap your lips around in a lewd manor.
“Ah, fuck,” you say as he snaps his hips, filling you to the hilt. “Just like that.”
He feels his orgasm in his gut, threading further up his body as he snaps his hips harder and faster, moving in and out at a faster pace than normal. You don’t mind, scratching lines down his back as you cling to him. You’re both reduced to a heap of I love you’s and satisfied sounds, and it could not be more perfect.
“Fuck, Hee, I’m coming,” you say in the form of a promise, one so precious he wants to hear it every day.
The flutter of your walls around him as you fall apart pushes him to his own end, releasing into the condom with a guttural moan. He kisses you deeply before separating from you, running to the bathroom to throw the remnants of your lovemaking into the toilet and clean himself up.
You hold your arms out to him, ready to have him back by your side. He grins and kisses the crown of your forehead.
“Think about all the nights we can do this next year,” Heeseung whispers into the dark.
“I can’t wait,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his sweaty chest. “I love you.”
He grins happily to himself, the words a thousand times more powerful leaving your mouth. “I love you, too, angel.”
With your body curled into his chest, your heartbeats matching in tempo, he thinks no amount of championship wins could compare to the love he’s found in you.
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DECEMBER
The basketball feels light as air in Heeseung’s hands, incomparable to the feeling in his chest looking at you. His teammates can tell he’s staring directly at your position in the stands. They wonder how his mind is still so occupied by you, even amongst the sea of spectators waiting for him to either succeed or screw up
Little do they realize, you’re the exact reason he’s going to win the title.
As he looks in your direction, he takes the shot without second-guessing himself. He hears the faint gasps of some attendees and even his coach, but the following swish of the basket in the hoop tells Heeseung all he needs to hear. And all he needs to see is your beautiful, proud face as the gym explodes into cheers.
You’re the best and truest thing he has in this world. He knows he’s a champion, in both the traditional and figurative sense. With you by his side, he’ll always feel like the winner of every game he’ll ever play.
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kayhi808 · 1 day
Note
okay that sick ask got me thinking.
ahem reader and bucky get busy and reader calls him daddy right but the next day when reader brings abby around everyone and ur all having lunch she asks:
“mommy isn’t grandpa dead?”
and reader answers turning their head a bit “yes why”
“you kept calling for him last night. kept saying daddy” and she shrugs and continues doing whatever meanwhile reader and bucky are embarrassed as hell with all the stares
ofc feel free too ignore i just had to get this out of my brain lols.
Oh my God! 🫣🤣 Abby Rose you little stinker!
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"Uncle Steve!" Abby runs over to Steve who just entered the common area. She crashes into him wrapping her arms around his leg. He gives her a surprised look, resting his hand on the top of her head. Steve's been gone for weeks on a mission and just returned, "I missed-ed you, big much!"
"Hey, Abs! I missed you, too." She looks up at him with a chubby cheek smile. "What are you doing here?"
"Bucky took Mama & me to dinner. We making ice feem. You wants?" She takes his hand & pulls him into the kitchen, where everyone seems to be gathered making sundaes. "Uncle Steve wants ice feem, too!"
Bucky raises an eyebrow, "Uncle Steve?"
Steve picks Abby up and sits her on the counter in front of him, "He's my Uncle now. He says so." Abby looks up at Steve for confirmation.
"I says so."
"See! I told him, my family is me & Mama, but he still wants to be families with me." She raises her hands above her head and claps for herself.
You smile, sliding 2 bowls over towards them. Abby is so animated and so happy it warms your heart. "Tank you, Mama!" She does her happy wiggle with her first bite. "And you knows what, Uncle Steve?"
"What, Abs?"
"Mama is finding me a grandpa!"
A little frown pulls at your lips, "Baby? Your grandpa is in Heaven, remember?"
"But you calls him. I heards you." Her little brow wrinkles, "You kept calling for your Daddy. 'Daddy! Daddy!' Like dat."
Bucky caught on before you did and everyone tried holding back their laughter. You felt lightheaded, "Oh, God."
"You call for hims too. You prayed-ed loud." Sam and Steve break out into the loudest laughter. Bucky just quickly turns you around, wrapping his arms around you, so you can hide against his chest.
"Come, Uncle Steve. I drawed-ed you a letter." She wiggles until Steve eases her to the ground and Abby leads him out, while he wipes tears of laughter from his eyes.
@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolff @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05
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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 days
Text
The sun to me
Chapter III. Sun ray.
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader
word count: 3.4k
chapter summary: discovering a hidden place helps discover hidden feelings and the camera captures a fleeting moment of happiness.
warnings: description of a nightmare with drowning
~ Masterlist for the series
~ next part
🌻 Sunflower - happiness and positivity.
There's no air that can reach his lungs, Hyunjin realizes this as the feeling of water filling up his insides consumes his entire being.
He's grasping for a figurative straw, his arms are lifting up to reach towards the surface, where he can see the light reflecting off of it, the sliver of hope he craves to hold on to.
Bubbles leave his lips as he screams silently in panic, unable to swim up, like some kind of deep sea leviathan has gripped his ankles and it's pulling him further down.
Down where he'll disappear forever, his body becoming food for the fishes, his existence forgotten like he was never even alive.
Like his dreams, thoughts and wishes didn't matter. Like whatever painting he ever created was scraped away, washed away, faded away into oblivion.
There's warmness and comfort replacing the harsh iciness of the sea when he stops fighting against it, letting it take him into it's depths where he'll be safe from all the harm that the big bad world has brought him.
Hyunjin's eyes open abruptly and the warmness he felt in his nightmare comes in the shape of salty tears sliding down his cheeks. He coughs, sitting up quickly, feeling like the air from his lungs has actually been taken away.
He reaches for the glass of water on the nightstand and drinks the refreshing liquid with big gulps.
He shivers, eyes fluttering before he reaches up to wipe his tears away.
Hyunjin can't even remember the last time he cried, or the last time he had a nightmare like this.
Shaking it off, he checks the clock and as he slowly comes to his senses, the hope he wanted so desperately to cling onto in his dream, lingers in his chest again.
It's almost time to meet up with you.
With newfound excitement, Hyunjin slowly but surely forgets about the feeling of the cold sea enveloping him as he gets ready for the day.
His camera is a must as he grabs it last, before skipping two steps at a time as he makes his way downstairs.
"Good morning, Hyunjin."- Isaac almost scares him as he appears beside him in the hall, a newspaper in his hand.
"Oh, good morning Isaac."- Hyunjin smiles, after the mini heart attack he experienced.
"What's the plan for today?"- Isaac asks and doesn't miss the way Hyunjin's smile widens.
"I- uhm- managed to find a tour guide for the island."- he stutters out, redness spreading on his cheeks.
"Oh really? And who might that be? I know everyone here and I just wanna make sure you're safe."- Isaac half-jokes, he has every good intention in mind.
"Y/n."- Hyunjin answers and Isaac looks a little surprised.
"So, am I safe?"- Hyunjin asks as Isaac gets quiet suddenly.
"Yes, yes, very safe. I'm just a little surprised that she offered."- Isaac says, waving the newspaper around.
"How so?"- Hyunjin tilts his head curiously.
"She's kind of a... homebody. Or gardenbody, if you will."- Isaac snickers at his own joke. "Mostly keeps to herself and her flowers. But she's a good girl, really."- he finishes, with his signature warm smile.
"I thought so too."- Hyunjin nods.
"Well, have fun. I hope you'll indulge me later with a little visit to my studio."
The lump in Hyunjin's throat is back.
"I'll try."- and he really will.
With all he has in him, he will try to look deep within himself to find the strength and inspiration he lost somewhere along the way.
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When your alarm wakes you up that morning, you don't feel annoyed or groggy, you feel excited.
The sun coming through the window lays on your body like a warm blanket, threatening to make you fall asleep again but your galloping heartbeat doesn't let you fall into the safety of your dreams again.
You get up with a kind of giddiness in your body, a skip in your step as you decide to wear your favorite yellow dress, the color of the sunflowers, the one kept in the back of your closet, existing only for special occasions.
The thought of spending time with and getting to know Hyunjin, makes for a pretty special occasion in your mind.
You're already planning a little route, imagining taking him to all your favorite places, the ones you saw so many times now being looked at from a new pair of eyes, the eyes of an artist with a paintbrush and a camera.
You wait for him in front of your flower shop, clutching at your little backpack, nervousness washing over you.
Hyunjin arrives on time, the sunlight making him shine brighter than any pretty jewel you've ever laid your eyes upon.
When he sees you, his face breaks into a smile as he runs his hand through his hair, a habit you already picked up on.
He's wearing sunglasses and his usual jewelry, his camera resting on his chest and a backpack on his shoulders.
"Morning!"- you greet when he's close enough.
"Morning!"- he returns the greeting equally excitedly as he cascades up to you.
"Did you sleep well?"- you ask and Hyunjin shivers a little, his lips parting as he blinks.
"Let's say I did."- he nods, pursing his lips.
"It takes some time to get used to all the smell of the varnished wood in Isaac's house."- you chuckle, starting to walk.
"Oh, you've been there?"- Hyunjin asks as he hurries up to follow you.
"Of course! Everyone's been at Isaac's."- you chuckle again. "We're like a little community here. He invites half the island to dinner sometimes. Well, when it's his son's or wife's anniversary mostly. He doesn't want to be alone then. I bring him flowers and my mom's famous cake."- you say as you approach the little restaurant you visit almost every day.
"Oh yeah, he told me about his son. Not about his wife though."- Hyunjin looks thoughtful.
"He'll tell you, I'm sure."- you say as you stop walking. "I thought we could eat breakfast first if you haven't had it yet."
"Oh yeah, actually I'm starving."- Hyunjin nods quickly, almost forgetting about the previous conversation.
You walk in and are greeted by Catherine immediately as she stands behind the bar and wipes away clean coffee cups, putting them back in their designated places.
Luna is sitting at one of the tables, coloring and lost in her own little world.
Catherine greets you, then stops when she looks at Hyunjin.
"Oh, hello there...?"- she looks at your new friend expectantly.
"Hyunjin. Nice to meet you."- he picks upon everyone wanting to meet the newcomer at their island.
"Catherine. That's my daughter Luna. And my husband, Bennet."- she points at him just as he walks out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of pancakes for his daughter.
"Oh, good morning, good people!"- Bennet smiles and you chuckle.
"Hyunjin just arrived on the island and I'm planning to show him around. But we can't really do that on an empty stomach."- you say and Catherine chuckles.
"Oh no, we can't have the two of you hungry. Why don't you two sit down and I'll bring a menu so your friend can look at it?"- Catherine says.
You take your usual spot, next to the window and she brings the menu for Hyunjin.
"You eat lunch here, right?"- Hyunjin asks as he scans the menu.
"How did you know?"- you ask, looking up from setting your backpack down on the floor.
"It's kind of the only restaurant in the vicinity."- Hyunjin chuckles and you feel your face warm up in embarassment.
"Right."- you giggle.
"Here's your lemonade."- Catherine appears.
"Ooh, can I order one too?"- Hyunjin asks.
"Of course, I'll get right on that."- Catherine says before she disappears again.
"So, what do you recommend?"- Hyunjin asks.
"Well, an omelette is always good. So are pancakes. Maybe some fruit?"- you say and he chuckles.
"How about all of it?"
"That sounds good."
After you order a little bit of everything, Luna appears next to your table.
She giggles at Hyunjin shyly, half-hiding behind your arm.
Hyunjin greets her and you bend down to her level.
"Don't be shy."- you chuckle and then sign something as Hyunjin observes the two of you and realizes that the little girl is deaf.
"Oh, okay."- you laugh, your face red, you sign something else and Luna giggles again before running away back to her table.
"She can't hear at all?"- Hyunjin asks quietly.
"No, she was born like that. But she's a happy little girl."- you smile.
"What did you sign to her last?"- he asks curiously.
"I told her she looks pretty."- you say and Hyunjin nods. "She also said that you look like a prince, and that I look like a princess."
Hyunjin sputters, almost choking on his lemonade, his hand on his chest.
"Well, not sure about the first one but I agree with the latter."
Your heart threatens to betray you in that very moment.
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With tummies full and cheeks rosy, Hyunjin and you walk quietly together, the sound of gravel crunching under your feet seemingly loud in the comfortable silence.
"Have you been living on the island your whole life?"- he asks, breaking the silence suddenly.
"Pretty much, yeah. I've only moved for college shortly but I never finished."- you say.
"What did you study?"
"Journalism."
"Really?"- he chuckles. "If you graduated maybe you'd be the one interviewing me and maybe we'd meet then, in the showbiz world."
"Okay, mr. Big Shot."- you laugh and he laughs embarassingly at himself.
"Why didn't you finish? Lost motivation or?"
"My mother fell sick. Had to move back and take care of her."- you say and Hyunjin again feels like he's just here digging into people's wounds.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. It was a long time ago now. I'm glad I moved back here. I like this quiet little life. I think the big city would eat me up, honestly."- you confess, leading Hyunjin to the pretty forest behind the beach where you sat looking at the sunset the night before.
"The big city really does eat you up. You get stuck in a rut and washed away with all the other trash."
"Speaking from personal experience?"- you quirk up an eyebrow as you finally get under the shade of the big trees.
Hyunjin lifts his camera up, snapping a few pictures before he turns towards you and you lift your hand up just in time for him to snap a picture of you trying to hide your face.
"Yeah, I guess so."- he answers, the look in his eyes doleful.
"Is that why you came here?"- your finger is now pressing into Hyunjin's own wound.
"Kind of."- he says quietly. "The lifestyle I live right now is not something I'm proud of and definitely not what I wanted."
"Sometimes you have to do the things you hate to get to what you love."- you say as the two of you make your way to the neatly hidden cove you always loved to come to with your little notebooks and pencils.
Sometimes you would go there just to sit and think. Sometimes it was the only place that you could cry in peace at, your tears blending into the vastness of the salty sea, soothing and alluring.
Nobody asking you what's wrong and what they can do to make it better, because nothing can make it better, nothing except letting it all out, away from all the prying eyes and hands.
"I'm pretty sure I mostly do things I hate. Don't even know what I love about it anymore."- Hyunjin finds himself surprised with the fact that he can so easily tell you what's been weighing heavy on his mind for what feels like an eternity.
"Don't you love painting?"
"I used to. Not sure anymore."- Hyunjin shivers at the realization that it was the first time he's uttered that out loud except when he was screaming at his manager.
"I'm sure you can teach yourself to love it again. Maybe with a little help too. For example, what is your favorite thing to paint? Or was, rather."- you ask, curiously tilting your head at him as you near the narrow entrance to the cove.
"Flowers."- Hyunjin says as you come to a stop in front of the entrance and he lifts his camera up to take photos.
"I happen to know quite a lot about flowers."- you tease and Hyunjin chuckles, putting the camera down.
"Oh really now? Maybe I could use your knowledge as my inspiration if you'll let me."- he smiles and your heart flutters.
"Sure, you can come to my flower shop or garden any time."- you smile back and it's like some kind of relief keeps washing over Hyunjin whenever you smile at him like that.
"I'd love that."- he says and you lead him through the little cave out to the beach.
"This'll be a pretty picture."- Hyunjin mutters just as you turn around towards him, the beach coming into view behind you in the opening of the cave.
Click.
The camera clicks, capturing the moment in the frame forever.
You chuckle as you walk out to the cove and Hyunjin follows.
"Wow!"- he gasps. "So beautiful. How is this place still not discovered?"
"Eh, during the summer months people flood this place like moths to a flame. But during the rest of the year, it's mostly empty."
Hyunjin snaps a few pictures again.
"Maybe I should take some pics of you too."- you say.
"Be my guest."- Hyunjin doesn't hesitate to hand you his precious camera.
It doesn't do justice to Hyunjin's beauty, his face bathed in the sunlight, his eyes closed as he turns towards the sea, his lips upturned in a small blissful smile, his dimples showing.
He really looks like the lead of a romance movie, the ones you watched way too many times, knowing deep inside that you'd never be that girl who gets the main guy.
Always the girl on the sidelines, where you got used to being to the point it became hard for you to even imagine falling in love or imagine going out of your comfort zone and giving away your vunerability into someone's open palms like it was just a thing to toss around as everyone takes a turn picking at it, leaving with pieces of you.
Pieces you will never get back, leaving you with your soul bare.
You don't want that, you don't think you even know how to give that anymore.
Everything you give, goes to your flowers.
All your love, your hopes and your tears grow in the shape of stems sprouting out of the earth, blossoming into different colored petals drenched with intoxicating scents.
"Took enough?"- Hyunjin breaks you out of your thoughts and you chuckle a little.
"I think so."- you hand him back the camera before the two of you take a stroll on the beach.
Hyunjin feels like the lead in a romance movie, but there's a wall in front of him, one that is too high to climb up on, too sturdy to break and too deeply rooted into the earth that you can't even dig a hole in it.
The setting is there, the girl is there, only his heart is not. It's scared, hiding away like a wounded animal after a scuffle.
If it was a few years before Hyunjin would surely already let himself fall into you, assured that you'll welcome him with your arms wide open but that's not who he is anymore.
Whatever kind of fairytale he blindly believed in before was just that; a fairytale, not a reality he could touch with his fingertips, hold in his arms, taste on his lips.
But, he is willing to deceive himself even for a fleeting moment of happiness like this.
The walk is short and you end up sitting on the rocks and taking more photos of the picturesque beach, the conversation between you now more light, avoiding the heavy themes and instead commenting on something laugh worthy, something to alleviate the heavy atmosphere threatening to absorb you.
You take Hyunjin back through the forest, walking him all the way into Isaac's street, promising that you will show him another favorite 'secret' place on the island in the next few days.
The sun is almost setting as the two of you turn around and start making your way to your homes.
Hyunjin finally feels something.
It may be small and flickering, like a light at the end of a ceaseless dark tunnel but he can see it in the distance, welcoming him with it's warmth.
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Your evening routine has never felt more special. Even though it's the same night after night, it's like there's glitter sprinkled on everything you touch, making it glow beautifully like it was something completely new.
And while you hum along to your music and cook dinner like some movie character waiting for their lover to arrive home, Hyunjin is sitting in his room.
Isaac wasn't home when he'd arrived so he just made his way upstairs, the wooden stairs creaking under his weight, each one singing a different specific song.
Hyunjin ended up sitting on his bed after a shower and a snack, his camera in his hands as he looked at the pictures both of you took that day.
There was something familiar in the sun rays bursting between trees, in the crease of his brow, in the wave of the sea, in your bright smile. It was as if all of the nature's beauty blended together and into the two of you, whispering quietly to him, coaxing him into a net of safety.
Hyunjin caught himself smiling wide at the thought of you.
A knock on the door burst his little bubble, and he cleared his throat before yelling a 'come in!'.
"Evening, Hyunjin. I was just wondering if you'd like to eat dinner with me."- it was Isaac with his warm smile.
"Of course. I'll be down in five."- he says and Isaac nods curtly before leaving Hyunjin's room.
He sets the camera aside, accidentally casting his eyes on the paintbrushes sticking out of his suitcase he hasn't even completely unpacked yet.
Something twists in his stomach and he turns away from the little devils, deciding to make his way downstairs.
Isaac looks up from preparing the table and Hyunjin joins in, helping him.
"So, how was your outing?"- Isaac asks with a small smile.
"Refreshing, honestly."- Hyunjin returns the smile. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed ever since I stepped foot on the island."
"Well, that is so good to hear! I'm glad this little island brings you a peace of mind like it did for me."- Isaac says as the two of them sit down.
"I used to live in the big city. Stop me if I'm wrong here but you probably feel exasperated and worn out from the lifestyle of a successful artist."- Isaac starts and Hyunjin stops him.
"How'd you know I'm successful?"- he asks with his brows lifted up in surprise, making the older man chuckle.
"It's easy to guess so. With one look at your attire, anyone can see you're well off."- Isaac concludes.
"Right."- Hyunjin nods, his cheeks becoming rosy in embarassment. "So, you used to be a successful artist too?"
"Hey, don't say used to!"- Isaac laughs and Hyunjin chuckles, apologizing before Isaac hits him with a 'just kidding'.
"But yes, I used to live the lifestyle you do now. And even with my wife beside me, I continued living the same... let's say festive lifestyle and I neglected her and my son. Ah, it's a long story for another day."- Isaac stops himself.
"Well, I'd like to hear it one day."
"The point I want to make is, don't make the same mistakes I did. If you see a good opportunity, grab it while you can."
Hyunjin can't help but think he's talking about you.
He barely manages to fall asleep that night, even after walking around and eating good food, his mind is restless.
He dreams of blank canvases and sun rays that night. He dreams of your smile and the warmth he feels doesn't come in the shape of tears this time, it comes in the shape of a good feeling blooming inside his chest.
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89 notes · View notes
gingiesworld · 17 hours
Text
Queen Of My Heart
Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Bittersweet Ending, Arranged Marriage. Death
18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 3.8K+
Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Wanda Maximoff was everyone’s dream girl, the woman who had the most beautiful eyes, a smile that could brighten even the darkest of days, and a kind heart. Every man wanted her to be their wife, leaving many suitors to keep approaching her father about her hand in marriage.
“There’s another one.” Pietro groaned as he joined Wanda behind the counter of the Apothecary that their parents had owned.
“Why can’t they all just leave me be.” Wanda sighed as Pietro shrugged. “I don’t want to be with any of them, and it’s stupid to think that asking father would help them.”
“I’m sorry, Wanda, but that’s just how it is. No one truly marries for love, they never have.” Pietro told her.
“But that is what I want, I want a partner who makes me smile so effortlessly, I want a connection that isn’t forced, it just flows naturally.” She told him as she organised some of the jars on the shelf, dusting them as she went along. “I want to be with someone who I see a future with, not just for financial gains. Someone who wouldn’t care what we had or didn’t have, I just want that type of love that makes everything in the world seem so superfluous.”
“You mean what you have with Y/N?” He questioned, earning a slap on the arm.
“Shush. Father can’t find out.” Wanda whispered. “He will kill both of us, but yes. I just want to be able to live with them on some farm and grow old with them.”
“Wanda, your mother needs your help in the kitchen.” Mr Maximoff approached the twins, a smile on his face. “We have guests coming over tonight, and a possible suitor for you.”
“Father, I don’t.” Wanda tried only to get cut off by him.
“I don’t care if you want this or not. This is what’s best for this family and your future family.” He told her firmly. “You need to learn to remember your place.” He told her before he left the shop.
“I guess this is it.” Wanda sighed as she gave Pietro the rag. “My life and dreams are officially over.”
“They aren’t.” Pietro tried as Wanda just shook her head before she disappeared towards the kitchen to help her mother.
“I’ve already laid out your best dress.” Mrs Maximoff beamed as she prepared the dough for her bread. “This is so exhilarating, you’re going to be a wife.”
“I don’t want to be a wife.” Wanda told her honestly. “Besides, I don’t know this man either.”
“I didn’t know your father, but I can’t say that I was against marrying him when he asked your grandparents.” Her mother spoke. “But, I can say that over the time I have spent with him, I learned to love him and we then had you and your brother.”
“I don’t want to learn to love. I want it to be natural, just feel it without even spending an unknown amount of uncomfortable time with someone who is only going to help keep father’s business afloat.” Wanda told her honestly.
“There isn’t a choice in this Wanda.” Mrs Maximoff spoke angrily. “You are a woman, this is your womanly duty to provide for a husband and build a family with him.” Wanda sighed and gave up fighting against her mother, knowing she won’t exactly see the situation as Wanda does.
The night soon fell, the Starks were a well respected family in the Westview, Mr and Mrs Stark had two children, Jarvis and Morgan Stark. Given there is a significant age gap between the two siblings, they both remained close. Jarvis being the protective older brother that his sister needed.
“Are you nervous, son?” Mr Stark asked as the carriage came to a stop before the Scarlet Apothecary.
“I am father.” He answered truthfully, having seen Wanda everyday since they were children, falling for her every time he saw her or heard her voice. He loved the sound of her laugh, although he hated that he was never the one who made her laugh. That only fueled his deep hatred for Y/N Rogers, the only one who has ever truly been extremely close to Wanda. Everyone in Westview saw both Wanda and Y/N as best friends, even one of the neighbors would joke saying that the two of them would fall in love and wed.
“It is going to be fine.” Mrs Stark reassured him, making him smile as they all left the carriage, the two gentlemen helping the ladies down the steps. “She would be stupid not to see such a fine man.”
As they approached Maximoff's residence, Wanda was too busy pacing her bedroom, soon moving as fast as she could when she heard her window open, locking her door before she saw Y/N climb inside.
“You know, you could always tell me you don’t need me anymore.” They smirked as Wanda sighed. “We had a date, and you never came and I got worried.” They told her truthfully.
“I’m sorry Y/N/N, but my father.” She tried before her eyes started to fill with tears. “He’s trying to marry me off to someone.”
“He can’t do that.” Y/N stepped closer to her, their arms soon wrapping around her, pulling her into their strong embrace. “That’s not.”
“He can do that.” Wanda sniffled. “It’s not like women have similar rights to men.”
“Well, you should.” They told her firmly. “Everyone is allowed to have the freedom of choice. It shouldn’t matter depending on your gender.”
“I just.” Wanda tried as Y/N ran their fingers through her brown locks.
“I will be here when you’re finished and I can hold you until you fall asleep.” They told her softly.
“But, what about your father?” She asked them, they just shrugged.
“I’m only going to be missing another talk on why I need to uphold the family name and join the military.” They told her, they gently kissed the top of her head before she left the room. As she approached the dining room, she could hear the voices of her father, Pietro and two other men, all of them laughing as the smell of whiskey and tobacco filled the air.
“Here she is.” Mr Maximoff beamed as she stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Wanda, dear, come on in and introduce yourself.”
“Hello.” She spoke quietly, doing a small curtsy before she caught sight of her twin's grin as he tried to hold in his laugh.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Wanda.” Mr Stark spoke as he took her hand in his, pressing a kiss upon her knuckles, she had to try to hide the uncomfortable feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. “Jarvis here has told his mother and myself an awful lot about you.”
“Jarvis?” She questioned as she looked at the tall man beside her twin. “I don’t think we have ever met, I’m sorry.”
“Wanda!” Mr Maximoff scolded her, causing her to flinch at the anger within his tone before Jarvis spoke up.
“It’s perfectly fine.” He told them both with a warm smile. “I know we have never uttered a single word to one another, but I have noticed you Wanda, I have noticed you everyday since you first moved here with your family.”
“Why have you never spoken to her?” Mr Stark questioned as Jarvis shrugged.
“Well, Y/N Rogers seems to always have her attention.” He answered as Mr Maximoff scoffed.
“I don’t care for that Rogers child.” He spoke bitterly. “They are just a military family, and soon enough Mr Rogers will have them shipped off into the next War and then who knows, we may never have to see them again.”
“Father.” Pietro stepped in, seeing how Mr Maximoff’s words had affected Wanda. “Y/N is an amazing friend and they have always been there for Wanda. Did you know they were also the one who had done all of my chores that time when I had broken my leg? I never asked them too, they noticed the amount of extra stress that you put on Wanda and they decided to help. They are always there for her when we are not.”
“Don’t you dare speak out of term to me, boy.” Mr Maximoff seethed as the sound of the slap had silenced the room. “You do not disrespect me in front of our guests, now get out of my sight.” With that, Pietro left the room in a hurry, holding his already bruising cheek.
“I’m going to check on my mother and dinner.” Wanda spoke quietly before she left the dining room. She had hoped that maybe some unfortunate circumstance would happen and they would cancel dinner, but just as she had entered the kitchen, her mother was already bringing out the food.
“We are going to feast like royalty tonight.” Mr Maximoff beamed as he took his seat at the head of the table, opposite Mr Stark. Everyone had soon settled in to take their seats, soon digging in and sharing small conversations.
“I know this may seem forward.” Jarvis spoke as he sat beside Wanda. “Would you like to accompany myself on a stroll through the park on Sunday, after church?”
“I don’t know, I have to help my mother with the shop.” Wanda tried as Mr Maximoff shook his head.
“I can help your mother, you should go on this date.” He told her sternly. “You may never find another fine young man like Jarvis again.” He turned to face Jarvis. “She will be there to accompany you, she will meet you at the park.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jarvis beamed, soon the rest of the evening passed by in a blur, Wanda soon finding herself helping her mother in the kitchen with the cleaning before they all had retired to their bedrooms.
“Hey.” Y/N whispered as Wanda entered her room. “How was it?” They asked as she sat on the edge of her bed after locking her door.
“Awful.” She sighed, running her hands over her face. “My father is all for it and what he said about you.” She stopped herself before she continued.
“I heard.” They told her. “Your father isn’t exactly tactful in trying to be silent about his distaste.”
“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered as Y/N moved to sit beside her, wrapping their arms around her and pulling her into them.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling.” They told her, cupping her cheeks and wiping the tears that had threatened to fall. “I will always be here for you, however and whenever you need me.” Wanda looked into their eyes, seeing how the blue shone in the moonlight, she had always loved their eyes but seeing them in this lighting was something different, and she loved it. It was a sight she wanted to be able to see every night for the rest of her life. She soon leaned in and pressed her lips against theirs, their lips both moving in unison before she snapped back to reality.
“I’m so sorry.” She said as she moved away from them. “I didn’t.” She tried before Y/N cut her off, approaching her, taking her hands in theirs.
“It’s okay.” They gave her a soft smile. “Although, I have to be honest with you.” They sighed before continuing. “I have always wanted to kiss, I can’t quite recall in which moment I began to feel more for you, but I do.” Wanda shook her head in haste, pressing her fingers to their lips.
“Please don’t say it.” She whispered sadly. “As much as I want to hear you say it, I want it to feel amazing and in a moment that is special between the two of us, within a moment that solidifies that our union will be forever.” She moved her finger as she continued. “This isn’t that moment, if I hear you say those words I so desperately want to hear right now, it will shatter my already broken heart.”
“I’m sorry.” They told her before they stepped away from her slightly. “I uh, I should take my leave now.”
“Please stay.” Wanda pleaded as they moved towards her window. “I need you to hold me, just for tonight.” And that was indeed the start of the pair’s internal struggles. Y/N hated seeing Wanda accompanying Jarvis everywhere, ever since their stroll in the park, her father had urged her to go on more outings with her husband to be. She would even see as Y/N would pass her by in the street, her heart breaking little by little, just as theirs was breaking. Knowing that in this lifetime they will never have the life they had always dreamed about when they were just children.
“You can’t seriously think you can make a name for yourself with these knick knacks.” Mr Rogers scolded as he approached Y/N who was happily carving pieces for a new chess board.
“I don’t think that father.” They answered him. “This is merely something that brings me peace and tranquility.”
“I have arranged a meeting with my old Senior Officer.” He told them as he picked up a rook, looking at it between his fingers, a look of disdain on his face. “He will help with getting you set for joining the services.”
“I don’t.” Y/N told him, placing down their chisel and the King they were carving.
“I do not care what you do or don’t.” Mr Rogers seethed, throwing the rook far into the field before he gripped Y/N up to their feet by the scruff of their collar. “You have a family name to respect, we are a military family and you will follow the path that I have laid out for you.”
“Yes, sir.” Y/N spoke flatly, their eyes never leaving their father’s who then started to straighten out Y/N’s clothes.
“I will see you at supper.” He told them before he left, Y/N watching as he disappeared out of the field, not realizing that Wanda was approaching them.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” She questioned urgently as she approached them, watching as they soon turned to face her.
“I’m fine.” They grumbled as they sat back down in their spot, grabbing their tools to finish carving the King.
“I found this.” Wanda held out her hand, the rook in which Mr Rogers had just thrown.
“Thank you Wan.” They smiled at her, her own smile widening at the nickname she had missed so much. “How are things with Jarvis?” They asked her, an edge of bitterness in their tone.
“I don’t like him.” She told them honestly as she sat down beside them, watching as Y/N’s hands worked on the small wooden figurine. “I can see that he likes me, but I just, I don’t think I will ever like him in that way.”
“But, this is what your father wants for you and your family’s future.” Y/N reminded her as she just shook her head.
“My father only wants the financial benefactors that come with this arrangement, he couldn’t care less about the family.” Wanda told them, before she turned to watch their face as theY concentrated. “I just want to be able to be with the one person who I am truly in love with freely, without any judgment from my father.”
“And how do you suggest you do that?” Y/N questioned, their attention soon turning to her, their faces close as they could feel her breath on their lips.
“I don’t know.” Wanda whispered, her eyes flashing between both their eyes and their lips. That kiss they had both shared, never really left her mind since the night it happened. “I just, I know what I want, I know who I want but I just.”
“Have to live up to our parents' expectations of us.” Y/N finished for her, their faces had somehow moved closer, their noses brushing one another. “I understand that perfectly.” They whispered sadly. “I want nothing more than to be able to remain here, marry the one woman whom I have only ever seen within my future and start a family with her.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Wanda questioned, not anticipating Y/N rising to their feet and stepping away from her, creating some distance.
“I think you know exactly what is stopping me.” They told her, Wanda soon followed suit and stood before them, taking a slow step closer.
“I want to hear it from you.” She told them firmly. “I want you to tell me.” She watched as Y/N closed their eyes, clenching their fists as they gathered themselves before they moved towards Wanda, faster than she had anticipated, she was pushed up against the tree.
“Because you are marrying another, and I’m clearly not worthy of such love nor a future with you.” They told her sadly, Wanda’s hand reaching up to cup their face. “It’s you, Wanda. It’s always been you.” They confessed, both of their hearts beating rapidly before Wanda soon pressed her lips against theirs, kissing them with such passion as Y/N pushed their body up against her own. Wanda moaned at the feeling of their tongue slipping through her parted lips, Y/N’s hand gripping the fabric of her dress, trying to steady themselves, trying to fight the urges they had. “We should stop.” Y/N whispered, after finding the strength to pull away. “This is wrong.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong.” Wanda whispered, Y/N’s head rested against hers as neither of them attempted to move away from the other. “This.” She held one of their hands in her own against her chest, allowing Y/N to feel how fast her heart was beating. “This is right, this is what it should be, but.”
“But you belong to another.” Y/N spoke sadly, their eyes glistening as they filled with tears.
“My heart is yours.” Wanda told them. “It doesn’t matter who I am with or wherever I am, my heart will always be yours. I’m just sorry that we couldn’t have the life we wanted in this lifetime.”
“I promise you that I will always find you in the lifetimes that shall follow this one.” Y/N told her confidently. “Maybe, in one of those lives, we will finally have our story written.”
“How can you be sure?” Wanda questioned, her eyes taking in Y/N’s for what she never knew would be the last time.
“My heart will beat as fast as it is now when it is in your presence.” They told her softly. “My heart will always know when it’s home. You are my home.” Wanda pressed a soft kiss to their lips before the two pulled away.
“But, what about now?” She asked them as they sighed.
“I want nothing more than to run away with you and start our story, but we both have our obligations here.” They reminded her. “You’re getting married, and Jarvis is a rather nice gentleman, he will look after you.”
“But, I want you.” Wanda tried, feeling disappointment as Y/N stepped away, feeling the loss of their warmth against her form.
“In the next life, we will have our happy ending.” They told her as they started to pick up their tools and chess carvings. “Besides, I have a family obligation I need to uphold.”
“Join the military and get yourself killed.” Wanda scoffed as Y/N sighed, observing Wanda as she wrapped her arms around herself, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
“With every passing day we are dying, we are dying from the moment we were conceived.” Y/N told her. “It’s what we make of time we have that makes it count, and I can say that since the moment you came into my life, you made the sun shine brighter, the colours more vibrant than ever.” They continued before Wanda interrupted them.
“Don’t.” She spoke firmly, struggling to stop the emotions from falling through. “I am not going to say goodbye to you. I can’t ever say goodbye. Not to you.” She whispered as her tears slipped. “You aren’t leaving me. I won’t let you.” Y/N took a shaky breath before they approached her, only just within arms reach.
“We have to part ways, but I will always carry you in my heart.” They picked out the Queen and King in which they had carved. “You will always be the Queen of my heart. Always and forever.” They handed the small figurines to her, watching as she held them both close to her heart. “I will always remember you, Wanda and I will always hold you in my heart, until it stops beating.”
“I can’t.” She cried as Y/N pressed a lingering kiss to her head.
“You don’t have to say goodbye.” They told her softly. “Just promise me that you will continue to live your life, have a family of your own. I know Jarvis isn’t exactly the one you want to have a future with, but when you have your own children, that love you feel will be greater than any love story in history, because you will do anything for them, you will make sure they get to live the life they choose, they get to love whomever they fall in love with. Let them live the future neither of us had the chance to experience.” Wanda only nodded before she watched them leave, her sobs soon falling harder as they had disappeared. Wanda had never anticipated that that moment was the last moment she had ever shared with Y/N, especially on that night when they had returned home to find Mr Rogers drunk and hitting their mother. Y/N had jumped in to defend her, only to be beaten to death by their drunk father. Once the news had traveled about their death, Wanda had grieved for them, she had felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest, hoping that maybe if she had convinced them to sleep with her under the stars for one last time, they would still be here, but all she could do was honour their final wish they had had for her, to live her life and build a family of her own, giving her own children the opportunity of freedom, away from the family’s expectations. As much as she hated it, Y/N was right about Jarvis, he was a good man, a good husband and father to their children. It wasn’t exactly the life that she had envisioned for herself, but she was happy, she had built herself a family, taking away her own parents expectations of her own twins, allowing them to follow their dreams, something in which Wanda was never given the opportunity to do.
87 notes · View notes
revasserium · 3 days
Text
had me at hello
todoroki shouto; 4,082 words; fluff, tiny sprinkle of angst, no "y/n", summer camp, canon-divergent, domestic fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, summer-time romance, self-indulgent as all living fuck
summary: nothing lasts forever, not even goodbye. or, in which todoroki shouto discovers that summer flings really aren't his thing
a/n: chat we are SO back. back on this todoroki brain rot GRIND!!! and as opposed to posting at the last possible second for @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday like i did last time, i'm posting mine first this time to make up for it! the theme was "saying goodbye to a summer love" ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡
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It was to be a whirlwind summer, one that’s different from every one that came before it. Todoroki had thought, naively, that summer training camp would end up being just that — just another summer thing.
And he’d never been fond of the heat.
But you — you’d swept in like the rain, all bluster and brilliant, summer-thunder laughter. You struck across his storm-ridden skies like a spark of lightning, setting all his forests ablaze.
At first, he didn’t think much of it. Didn’t think much of the volunteers that the Pussycats had brought along to help around camp. Groupies, he’d dismissed, and thought of it no more. But the first night everyone came back, exhausted and sore and sweating in places they’d never thought could produce sweat, you’d been there along with the others (he doesn’t remember their names now, but he remembers yours), passing around cold water and setting up the food for dinner.
“Here,” you hand him a water bottle; he dips his head, his chest still heaving from exertion. He twists off the cap and gulps down half the bottle, feeling a cool trickle escape the corner of his mouth to run down his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his hand just as you cast him a grin before turning around to hand another water bottle to Kirishima.
Todoroki swallows, his palms warm, watching as you laugh at something someone says. He lingers on the gloss in your hair and the ease of your smile. He wonders what kind of quirk you might have; he catches himself wondering, and then proceeds to wonder why he’s wondering at all.
He thinks it’s the heat — fanning himself, he looks away — glancing up at the smoldering sky before sighing and capping his water bottle.
“They must love you at school, huh?” you ask, your voice jolting him out of one reverie and into another. Dinner’s almost done, and he’d wandered toward the edge of the wood for a moment of quiet, of peace or sanctity. He hadn’t noticed you following him, and that in and of itself should have set his senses on high. But, the air is tepid and the humidity heavy, and Todoroki only has time to cock a single eyebrow before you smile and continue —
“Your quirk — keeps you cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. Useful, no?”
He watches you watching him, your eyes huge and full of the dancing flames. He looks back towards the rest of his classmates, all chatting and laughing, grouped loosely with one another, Ashido flitting from one group to the other like the social butterfly she is.
“It’s alright,” Todoroki answers, surprising even himself. He drops his eyes, fixing his gaze on a point just above his own feet before you laugh, the sound drawing his attention back towards you.
“You’re not a very good liar, but that’s okay. It’s not a bad thing.”
You shoot him another grin.
“Your quirk,” he says, clearing his throat slightly as he feels a distinct heat prickling up the sides of his neck, “can I ask what it is?”
You list your head to one side, your expression curiously blank. Before you shoot him a smile that can only be called devious.
You nudge him with an arm before dancing away, but that momentary contact is all you’d needed. Todoroki feels his whole body relax, feels some of the tension drop from his shoulders, the strange nervousness that had been coiling in his stomach unclench.
“Guess!”
Someone calls your name from over your shoulder.
“Coming!”
You give him one final wink before dashing off, leaving him dazed, head reverberating as if someone had rung him through like a bell on a Sunday morning.
The weeks had passed in a strange blur after that, as if some vengeful giant had gone stomping through his memories, dragging a large hand across the vivid scenes, smearing the colors and scrambling the timelines. He remembers the ever-present ache in his muscles, the eternal shortness of breath that had accompanied the first few weeks, but he also remembers your presence in the evenings — always in the evenings, the shadow of you flickering around each and every one of his classmates, mostly asking about their days, but sometimes placing a comforting hand here or there.
He remembers your touch well, the gentle anchor of it, the immediate relief.
“Your quirk… it has something to do with feelings, doesn’t it?” he asks one night, a towel draped around his shoulders from a recent shower, his hair still damp in the early evening dark.
You flash him an enigmatic smile, swinging your feet as you turn your head back towards the liquid moonlight casting pale shadows along the edges of the summer-still leaves.
“What makes you say that?”
“Just…” Todoroki joins you, letting his arm brush along yours, his eyes following your gaze as he too sweeps the now empty campgrounds, the remnants of the barbeque fires still smoldering in their pits, the smoke twisting towards the cloudless sky like so many misty-tendrilled streams.
“Had a feeling.”
“A feeling, huh?” you echo, laughing softly, looking back down.
Todoroki doesn’t push you, but you don’t deny it either.
“You’re not wrong,” you say, after a brief moment of silence, “my quirk — it’s not offensive, or even defensive but… if I’m touching someone, I can… siphon their feelings into me,” and as if to demonstrate, you gently press your leg to his, and Todoroki feels the tired wariness drain from him, the feeling of ease trickling through him like hot water cascading down his skin.
He stifles a soft groan, feeling a blush press up against his cheeks.
You move your leg away, leaning back till your head is resting against the back of the park bench, poised at the edge of the large encampment.
“But that’s…” Todoroki searches for the right word — somehow ‘useful’ doesn’t seem quite right.
“No, you’re right,” you say, giggling even as you save him the necessity of finishing his sentence, “it’s a good quirk to have. It’s… necessary.”
But the way you say that word sounds a little too much like heartbreak for Todoroki to ignore.
“You said siphon…” he says, after a brief stretch of quiet, and he tastes the word on his tongue as if saying it for the first time.
“Yeah, that’s right,” you say, and longing is too close a friend of his for him not to notice it threaded through your voice like a secret.
“Which means… whatever you take from the person you’re touching… you have to feel it too, right?”
You lick your lips, your eyes flickering down to your hands, palms open.
“Yes.”
It’s a simple answer, but one that lands with a gut-punch of implication. Todoroki swallows, shifting ever so slightly to let his knee rest against yours. He tries his hardest to focus on calmness, to project relief. You turn to flash him a smile.
“You’re sweet,” and he hadn’t meant to blush, hadn’t meant for his heart to kick up like a drumbeat, but does. And he knows, instinctively, that you’d felt it too — passing through from his skin to yours by some strange glitch of nature.
He makes to pull away, but you reach out to rest a hand on his arm.
And almost instantly, he feels his heartbeat calm, feels the heat receding. But it isn’t like before — it isn’t the feeling of having something leave his body, but rather having something pressed in. Like a warm blanket settling over his shoulders, or a cold hand to ward off unwanted heat. Your calm seeps into him like summer rain, cooling his mind until he’s breathing steady.
He blinks down at you, startled.
“It goes both ways,” you say, and he can see the twin glow of warmth high in your cheeks. He spares a moment wondering if that blush had once belonged to him, if you were just holding onto it for a bit longer before letting it go. You move your hand away and he has to fight down the urge to pull it back.
“Oh,” is the only thing he can think of to say.
You are everywhere after that — perhaps not in the physical sense, but Todoroki seems to have lost the ability to not notice you. Or maybe he’s just gained the ability to — to what? Develop a crush? Is that even what this is? He doesn’t know — he’s never had one before to compare it to.
But he can’t help now how instantly his attention snags on the sound of your voice, like a stray thread on a mesh-wire fence, or how an unshakable shiver traces down his spine whenever you’re near. He feels childish, like he did when he was too little to control his quirk. But he’d learned since then, hadn’t he?
Hadn’t he?
“It’s all just hormones!” he overhears Ashido say to Uraraka one night, the girls all clustered together on a single long sofa, limbs against limbs, cheeks pillowed on shoulders, a careless sort of closeness threading them all together. Todoroki’s never thought himself a jealous person, but watching them now, he wonders what it might be like to be able to touch a person with little to no thought at all, for it all to be second nature.
Uraraka blushes something furious, crinkling her nose.
“I — I don’t know…”
“I’m pretty sure whatever Mineta-chan is feeling can’t just be explained by hormones,” Asui says, her eyes huge and dark even as Ashido rolls her eyes.
“Maybe not just hormones, but that’s a large part of it!” Ashido insists.
Dangling on the side of the sofa, one foot tapping to music only she can hear, Jiro glances over and shrugs.
“Boys are weird.”
The girls all make varying sounds of agreement, and Todoroki forces his feet to move, thankful for the thick slab of shadow that had kept him from view of the general common area. He stares ahead as he walks down the long length of hallway, wondering if hormones really are the culprit behind whatever the hell this is.
The grueling days bleed into sweat-slick weeks, and somehow, he finds himself seeking you out more and more often. Sometimes after a particularly hard training session, under the guise of needing some “help” recovering (it had come out that Recovery Girl couldn’t make it so the Pussycats had volunteered you as the next best thing), sometimes without any reason at all, other than the simple want of your company.
He finds himself laughing, finds himself reaching for you — and he blames it on the weather, blames it on the tiredness now eternally sunk into his muscles, the soreness that won’t ever quite go away. He tells himself that it’s just a summer thing, to feel so hot that he gets lightheaded, to laugh until his stomach hurts, to feel the inexplicable itch to graze your hand with his when you’re sitting too close and not nearly close enough.
Thinking back, he’d known it would never last. You’d told him early on that you don’t live in the city. But that it’s not too far, if ever he wanted to visit.
“Camp’ll be over in a few weeks,” you say, lying back on a patch of sun-dried grass, beneath a swirling canopy of stars, Todoroki sitting beside you, his arms propping up his torso as he stares up at the sky alongside you.
“Yeah. I’m surprised it’s been so peaceful,” he says.
You laugh, shooting him a curious look.
“Used to getting in trouble?”
“There… seem to be a few of my classmates that attract trouble. Of all kinds.”
“I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”
“Don’t you?”
You grin up at him as he glances down at you.
“Not one bit.”
You feel him shifting as he lies down next to you, your elbows brushing in the grass. He feels a jolt of electricity snake up his arm, coiling in the base of his belly. For a second, he wonders if its a him-feeling, or a you-feeling. And then, he realizes that it doesn’t really matter — and before he knows it, he’s twisting to his side, leaning over just far enough to press his lips to yours.
In the grand scheme of kisses, Todoroki thinks that it might not have been the most well-positioned kiss, or the most well thought-out. And for all everyone calls him genius, this is one thing he’s never really had the chance to practice. Still, by the time he realizes that he’s kissing you, he barely has the chance to reconcile with the fact that you’re kissing him too. You, pressing up against him and pulling him down all at once.
His lips on yours, and yours on his — an endless echo of this kiss, and this kiss, and just this kiss. He feels his heartbeat like a reverberation, because he thinks he can feel yours too. He loses feeling in all his limbs, and wonders briefly if this is what free-falling might be like — to feel weightless, to be lifted outside of yourself.
You reach up to press a hand to his cheek, and he feels himself being shunted back into his body. He feels each of his limbs like discovering them for the very first time — his fingers tangled in your hair, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you in, holding you close. He does not remember pulling away. But he must have, because he remembers gasping for a breath he’s long since lost to the heave of your lungs.
He feels fire, and ice, and the spinning song of a million overhead stars.
“Is this — are you —” he struggles for words but you just smile.
“I don’t know — sometimes when I’m too —” you swallow, a bit breathless yourself, the head-thrumming heat of it all passing between the pair of you like a whisper, or a secret, “when I’m too excited I — I’ll accidentally make someone else feel it too but —”
You look back up to catch his eyes, and he finds himself smiling.
“It’s not just you,” he says, quiet and sure. Because this, whatever this is, is more than just a quirk — more than just the accidental bleeding of feelings from one body to another. More than simple empathy — it’s entropy.
A chaos of feelings.
Because he’d felt it bubbling inside him, alone at night, staring up at the moon-slatted ceiling. Wondering what it might be like to hold your hand.
And maybe this is what Ashido had been talking about — with hormones and urges and all the woes that come with being a teenage boy. But he doesn’t care; there’s time to worry about that later. For now, he thinks he’d just like to kiss you again.
And so, he does.
Time passes by strangely after that — and though neither of you had intended on it, the budding relationship between the pair of you had become a known secret. No one had ever called it out by name, but no one questions Todoroki either when he wanders off after dinner. No one blinks twice when you press a hand to the back of his neck after morning drills, smiling when he lets out a soft, pleased sigh.
Even years later, Todoroki can’t quite piece together the exact timeline of things. He remembers the late nights, staying up just to talk to you, wandering through the woods, you jumping at a rabbit or a squirrel, and him slipping his hand through yours with a silent reassurance. He remembers telling you about himself — even though he doesn’t remember you asking. About his father, his mother, his siblings, his scar.
He remembers how you’d reached out and held his anger and sorrow and resentment in your upturned palms, how you cradled them like bruised fruit, with delicate fingers and a smile that looked not one bit like pity. How you did not run.
He remembers you telling him about your childhood too, of your quirk being used and abused by careless adults and ruthless children alike. Of how your parents had used you as one might use a bad therapist, like a dumping ground for unwanted emotions. Of how you learnt to deal with the unbearable weight of all those feelings — things that a little girl should never have to learn how to deal with on her own.
He remembers how you held him and he held you, and how you both had allowed yourselves to hold and be held by each other.
But what he remembers most is the ending — the last night of camp, when he knew he’d be leaving the next morning. All the bags are packed, and they’d all come out stronger. It had been an uneventful, tiring sort of camp, where nothing happened except daily training, but for a class full of teens with super-human powers and the uncanny ability to attract life-threatening situations, it could be called a resounding success.
“Excited to be going back to school?” you ask.
He watches you drag a pale pink nail polish over your fingers, one by one, blowing on each finger as you smooth out the color with steady swipes.
“I guess so. We have provisional license exams coming up, so I doubt we’ll get much rest after this.”
“Aww… but I guess no one ever said becoming a hero was an easy thing, right?” you laugh, tossing him a good-natured wink.
He sighs, leaning back against the wall of your camp room.
“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”
“Hm…” you hum, finishing off your manicure and carefully screwing the brush back into the nail polish bottle.
Todoroki turns to find you frowning slightly at your nails.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just…” you press your hands carefully into your lap, “it got me thinking — this was… easy, wasn’t it?”
And he doesn’t have to ask what you’d meant by this. Because he knows. And with a jolt, he realizes that yes. This was easy. It was so easy, being with you, in this secluded place. So easy to laugh without worrying about the outside world, to forget, if only for a while.
Easy to kiss you, to hold you, to push away the thoughts of tomorrows and endings until — well.
“Yeah…” Todoroki breathes, “I guess… I guess it was.”
Silence blooms between you like a plume of smoke.
“But… I mean,” you say, waving your hands through the air to help your nails along, before slumping back into your pillows, “it was never going to be forever, right?”
And this time, Todoroki can’t quite tell if you’re talking about this or perhaps — he can’t help the tiny bead of hope coalescing in his chest — a future where your goodbye is the thing that doesn’t last forever.
“No,” he answers, allowing himself a small smile as he looks down at his own hands, “nothing really ever is.”
You giggle, rolling over to peer at him from your stomach, “You’re so serious.”
But by the time he lifts his head, you’d already crawled over to press your lips to his. It’s a sweet kiss, a simple kiss, and Todoroki feels his chest seize inside him, his arms going heavy with a liquid weight. When you pull away, he notices your eyes are fractured with tears. You wipe them away with a laugh.
“Look at me — I’m so silly.”
Todoroki shakes his head, reaching out to cup your cheeks gently between his hands, the way you’d taught him to with his own jagged emotions. And he feels it then, your sadness, your uncertainty, the stomach-twisting knowledge of endings.
“The beginning might’ve been easy but… this isn’t.”
You hiccup, going still as he holds you.
“So… I guess we were worth it after all, huh,” you say, looking down at the space between you.
Todoroki nods, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with his for a second before bringing you in for yet another kiss. He pulls away and tastes salt on his lips.
“That’s how we know — because the ending is hard. That’s how we know it was worth it.”
When the next morning comes, you don’t cry when you wave them all off, though many of the girls are. You catch his gaze and hold it for just a second longer than you’d done with anyone else. Beside him on the bus, Aoyama makes a soft, knowing kind of noise.
“Ah… first love is always such sweet despair,” he says, twinkling in his usual way.
Todoroki clears his throat, leaning back in his seat, a strange stillness settling over him as he thinks about the days ahead.
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Todoroki says, to Aoyama’s dramatic surprise. But he recovers quickly and begins a soliloquy about something or other that carries them all the way back into the city, and to their assigned dorms.
He never forgets you, though there are moments when he’d wonder if that summer had really happened. Years later, when the memories have all gone watercolor-pale, and the edges blurred with time, he’ll still find himself reaching into the part of his mind that feels like the soft, steady weight of your hand on the back of his neck to calm him down, the smooth of your skin as you’d pressed against him and held him close.
And then, the year that he turns 24, it happens — he’d been called out into a small town just outside Shizuoka, for some kind of event that Fuyumi swears would be good for his publicity (as if he needed any more). Even after all these years, it still unsettles him to travel alone to these places, and he subconsciously reaches for the feeling of your palm pressing to his skin.
“Shouto?”
He turns at the sound of his name, and though a part of him assumes it’s yet another adoring fan, the deepest, most honest part of him whispers that it isn’t — that he knows this voice.
“Oh… its you,” the words slip from him like pebbles into a thawing stream.
And there you are, standing feet from him, your arms full of groceries, a red and white muffler strung around your shoulders, looking every bit as brilliant as the you from his memories.
The smile that splits your face is beautiful as heartbreak.
“Well, someone very wise once did tell me that nothing lasts forever… not even goodbyes.”
Todoroki takes half a step closer to you, a smile spreading across his own lips as he reaches out to help you with your groceries, taking the bags into his arms. The movement as natural as coming home.
“Yes but… I was thinking about it the other day and —”
“Oh? Just the other day?” you tease, bumping him slightly with your elbow was you set off down the half-empty street. It’s almost sundown, and the days are getting shorter again. Your breath fogs up the air before you and Todoroki suddenly thinks that winter looks good on you.
Even better than summer had.
“Yeah, but I realized…” he says, casting his eyes up at the cloud-strewn sky, the colors fading fast, the thick velvet of night inching up across the world like a curtain being drawn.
He turns his eyes back towards you, only to find you watching him with an indulgent smile on your face.
Todoroki blushes, feeling suddenly bashful, like the teenage boy he was when you two first met.
“I realized,” he says again, determined to finish his thought this time, “that when we first met… we never really said hello.”
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ladykailitha · 3 days
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Eddie and Nancy
Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.
I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.
But may I propose instead: cousins.
Hear me out.
You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.
Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.
She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.
When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.
She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.
So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.
They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.
After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.
She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.
Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.
Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.
She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.
There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.
Childress.
She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.
She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."
She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."
Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."
Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.
"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.
"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."
Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.
There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.
"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"
Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.
"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."
"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."
"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"
"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"
It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.
She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.
Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.
Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.
She knows.
Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.
The end.
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miss-bushido · 3 days
Text
our bodies are oh so close and tight
written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week three, using the prompt 'rough' Title from the song 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' by Meatloaf
Also inspired by this tweet from @_cydonic: “young, bratty Steve who always calls for his father's car when he's working so that Mr Harrington's long-time, trusted driver Eddie can fuck him nasty in the back of the rolls 🥰”
Rating: E
“Going somewhere, Steven?” his Mother asks as he walks past her in the living room, adjusting the sleeves of his navy blue blazer. She doesn’t look up from her latest bodice-ripper romance book, so he knows he can be vague in his response.
“Yes, Mother. Just out to meet the guys.”
“Mmm, make sure you drive safely.” He can see her interest in the conversation is waning as her eyes keep moving over the words on the page. She even reaches for her glass of Chablis. It must be a very interesting passage.
“Eddie will make sure that I get there in one piece,” Steve answers. There is no response to that. His Mother sips her wine, and is now fully engrossed again in her story.
It’s just as well. He doesn’t think she’ll even wait up for him. She never does.
And he doesn’t know what time he’ll come back home. Not that the Harrington’s ever cared when their son came home. He tested it once: stayed out for three days, sleeping in a different girl’s bed every night. When he finally came home, they barely registered it.
This kind of parental neglect has been going on since Steve can remember. Their wealth let them spoil him with all the toys, experiences, cars and vacations a young man could want. There were a myriad of tutors, nannies, personal assistants as well. Their boy would never want for anything.
Except for affection and love from his parents. The Harrington’s did not give this to their only child readily, and on some level they must have felt guilty over it, because they let him do whatever he wanted. Steve was spoiled and willful and bratty, and no one was around to check him on this attitude.
Until the Harrington’s hired their chauffeur, that was.
Eddie Munson was like nothing and no one Steve had ever encountered before. He was in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He had an air of something about him: a hint of danger that only Steve picked up on.
He also didn’t take any shit from The Brat, as he had christened Steve.
The first time he’d tested Eddie was about six months after he’d been hired, almost three months ago now. He’d walked over to the garage where the Harrington’s cars were kept, just as Eddie was finishing wiping down the interior of the Rolls, his tongue poking out in concentration as he moved the damp rag over the steering wheel.
“I want you to drive me somewhere,” Steve said by way of greeting, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off of his blazer.
Eddie moved out of the driver’s seat, rag in hand. His hair, usually kept hidden by his chauffeur’s cap, was loose and long, brushing the tops of his shoulders. The white tank top he wore showed all the tattoos he’d kept hidden under his chauffeur’s jacket, along with the strong arms he had. “I just finished detailing the car, so it’ll have to wait-”
Steve sighed heavily, as if this was the most inconvenient thing in the world. “I don’t care. I want you to drive me-”
“No,” Eddie said.
“No?” Steve repeated, hazel eyes wide. No one had ever told him ‘No’ before. “Who do you think-”
“I don’t know who you think you are,” Eddie cut him off, voice even with a hint of anger, “but I’m not the one.”
“I’m your boss’s son, is who I am,” Steve answered, eyebrows furrowed as he came closer to Eddie.
“You’re a brat, is what you are,” Eddie retorted.
Steve blinked dumbly, not sure what to do. This conversation was not going how he’d expected it to go. “What did you say?” he asked, moving so he was in Eddie’s personal space.
Eddie stayed where he was, which was also unexpected. So the two were almost chest to chest. “I said that you’re a brat.” He leaned in as he spoke. “Just because I drive you and your family around doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit.”
Steve blinked again, but this time at the closeness of their faces. He could see a spray of freckles across Eddie’s cheeks, how pink his lips were, the hint of red in his cheeks from his anger. It made something stir in his gut, an unexpected feeling of arousal.
It wasn’t that Eddie was unattractive: he was actually pretty gorgeous to Steve’s mind. It wasn’t even that he was a guy: Steve had experimented with a few guys in the past. He just hadn’t ever expected to be attracted to someone who would speak to him like this. Like he wasn’t important. Like he wasn’t the spoiled and bratty son of the richest man in town.
“Get away,” Steve managed, pressing his hands on Eddie’s chest to shove him back. He managed to move the chauffeur about an inch before Eddie recovered and grabbed both of Steve’s wrists in his strong hands and pivoted so that he shoved Steve’s body up against the car. Eddie’s left thigh was between Steve’s legs, unaware that he was pressing against Steve’s crotch.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Eddie growled, tightening his grip on Steve’s right wrist. “Do you understand me, brat?”
Steve breathed heavily but didn’t answer. No one had ever been this rough with him before. And he found he kind of liked it. In response to Steve’s lack of one, Eddie pushed his body against Steve’s. The motion of him doing that produced delicious friction of Eddie’s thigh against his crotch that made Steve moan, closing his eyes at the feeling.
Eddie’s eyebrows raised at this development. “You like that, huh, brat?” He asked. When Steve didn’t immediately respond, Eddie moved his thigh again, feeling Steve’s erection clearly now. “You like it when someone corrects your behavior?” He was whispering in Steve’s ear now, his whole body pressed against him.
“Maybe…” Steve managed, his voice already sounding wrecked. He turned to look at Eddie, and felt a shiver run through him at the predatory look the chauffeur was giving him. “Maybe I do.”
“You want me to correct your behavior, huh?” Eddie asked. “Put my hands on you? Punish you?”
“Fuck,” Steve breathed, biting his lip at the imagery.
“First things first,” Eddie said, his left hand moving off of Steve’s right wrist, sliding down Steve’s body before he cupped Steve’s erection. He squeezed lightly, making Steve moan filthily, the sound echoing in the garage. “You don’t get to shove me around. Only I get to do that to you.”
“Yes,” Steve breathed, hips moving against Eddie’s hand. “Yes, God, I want that so much.”
“Good boy,” Eddie said, continuing to palm Steve through his pants. “Second thing: if you piss me off, if you keep acting bratty, I’m going to take it out of your ass.” As if to prove his point, Eddie moved them away from the car so he could give Steve a hard slap on the ass.
“Oh my God,” Steve shouted, his cock kicking in his pants. He’d never been spanked before, and didn’t know if it was because it was new or because it was Eddie doing it, or both, but he felt like he could come in his pants from just that by itself.
Eddie bit his lip at the display before him. He had his boss’s son in the palm of his hand, quite literally. He didn’t know Steve had it in him to be this pliable, this slutty. He found he really liked the power he had over him. “Third thing,” he said, his right hand moving in circles over Steve’s cheeks. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. I’m the only one you’ll spread for. My pretty little whore.” He punctuated this by giving Steve’s earlobe a bite at the same time as he slipped his hand inside Steve’s pants, stroking his thick cock quickly. “Say it,” Eddie demanded, spanking Steve again as he stroked him.
“Only you,” Steve panted, head tilted forward, his right hand gripping the driver’s side mirror. He shoved his pants down with his left hand, his cock and Eddie’s hand wrapped around it springing free. The slick sounds of his precum sliding up and down his cock could be heard. “Only you get to fuck me,” he continued. “Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“I can see,” Eddie breathed. He pushed his own pants down so his erection could be taken care of too. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and began stroking himself, getting off on getting Steve off. “Next time, I’m going to fuck you in the backseat, and you better not get cum all over the leather, or I’ll have to punish you.”
“Eddie!” Steve shouted as he came hard, gripping the mirror tightly as he bent forward. His cum dribbled over Eddie’s hands, some of it dripping onto the garage floor.
“God you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie groaned, forcing himself to stop stroking himself. He brought his hand up and licked all of Steve’s release into his mouth.
“I want more,” Steve pleaded. He looked up at Eddie, lust and longing written all over his face. “I want to be in the backseat with you now.”
Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss, his tongue sliding into Steve’s hot mouth. “You ever been fucked before, brat?”
“Once,” Steve breathed, gripping Eddie’s tank top as they kissed. “I think you’ll be better at it, though.”
Eddie smirked. “Damn right.” He slapped Steve’s bare ass again before he said, “Get in the backseat and bend over.”
Steve kissed his once more before he complied, opening the back door and sliding in so he was facing the passenger side door. He grabbed the edge of the leather seat, and arched his back, waiting for Eddie.
Eddie slid in after Steve, closing the door behind him. “Fuck, your ass looks so good.” He ran a hand over his cheeks, pleased to note the pink spots where he’d spanked Steve. “I have to have a taste.”
Steve cried out, gripping hard to the seat as Eddie spread his cheeks and began tonguing his asshole. No one had ever done this to him, and it was a revelation in pleasure. He felt the wetness of Eddie’s spit, his tongue working inside Steve, punching in and out of him. “Eddie!” he moaned. “God, fuck, it feels so good!”
“This is just the warm up,” Eddie murmured, almost losing himself in eating Steve out. “You taste so fucking delicious. Some day I’m going to eat you out all night.” He felt Steve’s hole clench around his tongue at this. “Sounds like you want that too, huh?”
“Want that, want you, want all of you. God, please, Eddie. Please fuck me!”
Eddie grinned, giving Steve one final lick before he straightened up. “Since you asked so nicely…” he murmured. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the little tub of Vaseline he kept there. It helped keep his hands smooth and soft after he worked on the car. Eddie uncapped it and scooped out a generous amount on his right pointer and middle fingers.
“This’ll be cold,” he warned Steve as he rubbed the lubricant over his hole. He slid both fingers inside Steve slowly, adding lubricant and getting him adjusted quicker. He heard the little hiss of pain Steve made and removed his fingers as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?”
“If you stop, I’ll shove you again,” was the answer. Steve turned his head from where it was currently pressed against the seat, giving Eddie a knowing grin.
Eddie grinned back, returning to the task at hand of getting Steve’s hole nice and lubed and stretched for him. “There’s that brattiness we talked about,” he said, adding more Vaseline to his fingers as he slipped a third one inside of Steve. He slowly fucked Steve on his fingers, feeling him clench each time. “Someone should fuck it out if you.”
“Is that gonna be you?” Steve asked, practically drooling all over the leather.
“Does my little brat want that? Maybe I want to hear you beg a little first,” Eddie said, pulling his fingers out. He rubbed some Vaseline along his cock, which was red and aching from being ignored for so long. “And loudly. I want to make sure I hear you.”
“Please fuck me, Eddie,” Steve begged, the desperation in his voice taking on a fever pitch. Part of him knew that begging was part of the roleplay they’d stumbled onto, but he also was desperate to feel the other man inside him. “Please, please, pleas- oh fuck, yes!”
On the last ‘please’, Eddie began to push inside Steve, groaning loudly at how tight and hot he was. He slid in slowly and then slid back slowly, almost pulling out. “Is it good? Is it okay?” he asked, his own voice ragged, his hands clutching desperately at Steve’s hips.
“Don’t stop!” Steve begged, pushing back.
It was all Eddie needed. He thrust back inside of Steve, setting a rough rhythm as he fucked him. “You’re so tight,” he breathed. “Such a tight little whore. Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He heard Steve gasp, felt him clench around him. “Say it,” he ordered, delivering a slap to Steve’s ass again.
“I can’t get enough!” Steve yelled, a desperation in his voice. He was leaking precum everywhere all over the seat. Eddie’s words about punishing him if he got cum all over the backseat reverberating through his head. “I want all of you. Only you, please. Please Eddie!” He didn’t know what he was begging for at this point, but that didn’t matter as long as Eddie didn’t stop fucking him.
Eddie felt a shudder run through him, his hips snapping hard against Steve’s as he kept fucking him. “I’m gonna cum in your tight hole,” he panted. “I’m gonna fill you up, make you mine.” He reached between Steve’s legs and began stroking his hard cock, trying to match the rhythm of each stroke to each thrust. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.”
“Only want your cock, your hands, your mouth, oh fuck, Eddie! Eddie, I’m-!” Steve’s words cut off as he came hard while Eddie stroked him, thick ropes of cum spurting out of him.
Eddie gripped Steve’s hip tight with his other hand, the rhythm he’d built up beginning to falter. “Take all of it,” he groaned as he went over the edge, coming so hard inside Steve that he saw white. His whole body shuddered at his release. “God, Steve,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“So are you,” Steve panted, trying to catch his breath. He liked the way his name sounded in Eddie’s mouth. “I want some more.”
Eddie groaned as he pulled out, licking his lips at the sight of his cum leaking out of Steve. “You’ll get some more, brat.” He pinched Steve’s cheek, grinning at the outraged yelp he gave. “First, I gotta clean the car up before this becomes an issue.”
Steve pushed himself up onto his knees, a dull ache in his backside. “So much for the detailing. I got cum all over…” he trailed off as he felt Eddie’s arm wrap around his waist.
“It lets me know I did a good job,” Eddie whispered in his ear, giving his earlobe a light bite. “And I lied: I hadn’t finished detailing the car.”
Steve turned his head to look at Eddie. “Why’d you lie?”
“Because you were being bratty like usual,” Eddie answered. “Are you mad that I lied?”
“No,” Steve said, fully turning to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “Especially not after this.” He deepened the kiss, placing his right hand on Eddie's face.
Eddie broke the kiss to ask, “Did you actually want me to drive you anywhere?”
“I did, but I think I can have a better evening if I stay here with you,” Steve said, giving Eddie’s lower lip a small bite.
“Brat,” Eddie replied, spanking Steve on the ass again, a grin on his face. “Go upstairs and get washed up. Once I clean the car, I’ll be up.”
“But don’t you want to shower with me?” Steve whined, kissing Eddie on the neck, the jaw, everywhere but his mouth. He gasped when Eddie gripped his hair and tilted his head back.
“Do what I say,” Eddie growled, licking a line up Steve’s neck. “I haven’t finished punishing you yet.”
Steve groaned with longing. “Okay,” he breathed, following Eddie out of the car after they both pulled their pants back up.
He was about to go upstairs when Eddie grabbed him by the blazer and pulled him in for a blistering kiss. His hands roamed everywhere on Steve, and when he pulled back, nuzzling their noses together, he started to say, “If it’s too weird or too much…”
“I guess I’ll wait to shower with you after all,” Steve quipped as he pulled out of Eddie’s grasp, a big grin on his face. As he walked upstairs to Eddie’s apartment he heard behind him: “That ass better be on display when I come up there.”
“Why don’t you make me?” Steve called back as he hurried up the stairs, already beginning to shed his clothes.
-
Now back in the present, Steve waits outside at the edge of the walkway. Soon enough, he sees a pair of headlights coming down the driveway, circling and pulling to a stop right in front of him.
Eddie, his Eddie, steps out from the driver’s seat and walks around to the other side, opening the right back passenger door for Steve. “Your chariot, my liege,” he jokes.
“Cute,” Steve replies, running his fingers across the waistband of Eddie’s pants. He is rewarded when Eddie bites his lip, trying to keep his composure. Steve slips his hand further down to palm him over his pants.
Eddie gasps loudly, glaring at Steve as he slides coolly into the car. “Brat,” he hisses. It is said with all the love and affection Steve has always craved.
And it solidifies his decision to tell Eddie he loves him tonight.
After a few spankings, of course.
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Text
Living in Secrecy
I couldn't stop thinking about this idea when I was in the middle of a uni class so ENJOY xoxo
"Hey, y'know Rose?" James starts speaking as soon as he's sat beside Sirius in the common room. He seems... antsy; Sirius watching his leg bounce, confused.
"Hufflepuff in our year, right?" He asks. He doesn't know her particularly well. Part of him thinks they were in the same charms class for a year, but he barely remembers fifth year charms. Too much was happening back then.
James nods emphatically, eyes brightening.
"Yeah! Her! I've heard she likes you. Wants you to ask her out."
"Oh, really?" Sirius asks. He tries to muster a sense of interest into his tone, but honestly? He couldn't care less. James, who unfortunately can read him like a book, picks up on this scarily quickly.
"I thought, maybe, it would be... good for you. Y'know, to go on a date." He's practically stumbling through it, but it's enough to make everything click.
Ah.
Right.
He's worried.
Sirius used to date around. He's not exactly proud of it, he spent a lot of time denying a very big part of himself, and he broke a lot of hearts in the process.
All of that ground to a halt when Remus kissed him on the astronomy tower.
He couldn't deny anything then. When Remus' lips met his, all he could think was that they'd wasted too much time not being together in this way. He's not quite there yet, but at least he knows that now. He knows he has a long way to go, but at least he has Remus. Even if he isn't ready to tell people yet, Remus understands.
That also meant no more girls.
He had gone from never being single in the eyes of the school to rejecting every advance thrown his way. He's been so wrapped up in the past few months with Remus, that he hadn't even thought about how confusing a switch that must have been for his friends.
"Prongs, I'm not really interested," Sirius says gently. He does want to tell James. It's pretty tempting, but he can't get the words past his mind and into his mouth. Not yet.
"How come?" James asks, confused. "I'm not saying you need to go back to the way you dated before!" He says quickly. "I'm glad you took a bit of a break, really I am. It's just... I don't know, I thought maybe you've had a bit of a confidence knock, or something. You've gone all quiet about your love life."
"Well, I mean, there's not much to tell," Sirius says with a shrug, panic creeping through him ever so slightly. James watches him carefully for a moment, before just nodding once.
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, just... think about it? Could get you back on your feet." Sirius nods dutifully.
Thank fuck that conversation's over.
He skips Divination. It doesn't matter either way, he'll pass that exam with flying colours.
Instead, he opts for laying on his bed in the dorm, lazily levitating shit with his wand. He's mostly just trying to whittle away the time, waiting for Remus.
The door clicks open, and Sirius can't help but smile before he even catches a glimpse of him.
Remus is humming Bohemian Rhapsody.
Christ, it's so bloody endearing, Sirius is grinning by the time he's stopped, noticing Sirius' presence. As he sits up, his eyes finally meeting Remus', he watches a slightly embarrassed blush spread across Remus' cheeks. He adjusts until his legs are over the end of his bed, revelling in the way his heart speeds up at the sight of Remus.
"Aren't you meant to be in Divination?" He recovers quickly, arching an eyebrow as he drops his books onto his bed.
"Mm, told Prongs to say I'd foreseen my own death and was feeling a little shaken," he answers with a shrug and a wry smile. Remus shakes his head, but Sirius can see the affection in it. He quickly gets close enough for Sirius to grab both of his hands and pull him close, before wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. He's rewarded with a hand in his hair and Merlin, he's never felt this way before. He relaxes into Remus, letting his eyes slide shut.
"You okay?" Remus asks gently. Sirius nods into him, letting him go long enough for him to sit on the bed next to Sirius. He doesn't waste a second in leaning in and connecting their lips.
He doesn't think he'll ever get over this. This feeling, this want that builds in his core whenever the two of them kiss.
How did he ever think he was straight?
"Oh," he starts, pulling away begrudgingly as the story comes to the front of his mind, "Prongs tried to get me a date, today."
"Really?" Sirius watches amusement cross Remus' face. He nods, squeezing Remus' hand once.
"Some Hufflepuff girl. I think he thinks I've lost my mojo, or something." As he talks, he watches thoughtfulness begin to flash in Remus' eyes.
"I mean... have you considered maybe telling him?"
Sirius doesn't mean to tense up; it's involuntary. The moment he does, he knows he needs to talk himself out of this. He promised Remus that they'd tell people eventually, but... no, not yet.
"Why? He'll drop it on his own, when he realises I'm not interested," he says, forcing his shoulders to relax and waving his hand a little dismissively.
"I know you don't... I'm not saying you have to tell everyone," Remus says gently, "but, I mean, it would make everything a lot easier, right? Prongs wouldn't be trying to set you up all the time." He smiles, and Sirius really wishes he could reciprocate it. His smile is just so lovely.
"I don't know. I don't think now's the right time, y'know? Quidditch has been stressing him out, NEWTs are getting closer, Lily's finally started looking his way, it's just- why dump one more thing on him?"
They both know that's not why.
"Sirius, it's okay. You don't have to tell him tomorrow, or anything, but... have you thought about it? You know he won't look at you any differently, it's Prongs."
He doesn't. Nobody knows that for sure.
Sirius doesn't really want to say that. He doesn't know what he wants to say, really.
"It's not the right time," he settles on, hurried. Honestly, he just wants this conversation to be over.
"Okay," Remus says tiredly, pulling his hand out of Sirius' to scrub over his face. "Do think about it though? Please? We can't stay a secret forever."
"Yeah, I know," Sirius says. "He doesn't need to know now, though. It's fine, it doesn't matter," he says quickly, waving off the conversation and turning back to Remus. "We've got half an hour..." Remus' face stops him in his tracks. He almost looks stricken. "Moony, what's wrong?"
"It doesn't matter?" He repeats, face going slightly dark. "What, us?"
"That's not what I meant. I just... we're not there, are we? There's no point right now." He's panicking a little, everything starting to come out wrong as the anxiety comes back in volumes.
"Right, yeah. No point. Haven't made up your mind about us yet."
"That's not what I meant," he says helplessly. He doesn't know how to tell Remus what he means, because he isn't even sure. He can't tell Remus why he's so scared, he just is. It's a little embarrassing, really.
"Mm. I don't think I want to talk about this anymore." Remus gets up, Sirius' heart sinking to his stomach.
Fuck.
God, he's really cocked this up.
"I'm going to the library."
Before Sirius can figure out how to make it better, Remus is already out the door. He drops his head into his hands and lets out a groan.
He's such a bloody idiot.
"Padfoot." James stumbles up to Sirius. He's leaning against the wall beside the portrait hole, watching the party go on and just trying to drink himself into oblivion. In his defence, he's in a foul mood, after what happened with Remus. He just needs to sulk and forget about it for a bit.
They can talk about it tomorrow.
It doesn't help that Remus is noticeably absent from a party that he helped organise. Sirius knows it's his fault. He knows that he shouldn't have said any of what he said. Sure, maybe Remus overreacted, but he knows how Remus' brain works, he should have been more careful.
So, yeah, he's feeling a bit shit.
"Wotcher, Prongs." He reaches a hand out to steady James a little as he settles beside Sirius.
"S'goin on? You're being all..."
"M'fine," he answers with a shrug, draining the rest of his drink. He can't exactly tell James why he's being such a moody git, can he? Instead, he opts for straightening up and staring at his empty goblet. "Need a refill."
With that, he heads over to the drinks table. He's starting to feel comfortably fuzzy, zoning out as he pours just a little too much firewhiskey into his goblet. Just for tonight. Tonight he can let himself go a little, and he can fix things with Remus once he's cooled off a little.
Things start to blur from there.
He's not drunk, per se, but he's getting there. He's tipsy enough that he doesn't question James talking to a girl who looks weirdly familiar.
He doesn't even question it when she walks over to him.
"Hi, Sirius!" She starts cheerily.
"Hey. Rose, right?"
-
Remus is sulking.
It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but he is. He's sitting on his bed, pretending to read as he listens to the party downstairs.
He also knows that he's not really in the right.
He told Sirius he'd give him time, and he knows that. The thing is, he's had two months of Sirius gently shutting the conversation down when it comes to telling people about them. Surely two months is enough time. Also, he did say there was 'no point' in telling James about them. Sirius' best friend, his brother, and there's no point?
Remus has a right to be upset about that.
The more he thinks about it, dwells on it, the more he realises that he needs to give Sirius some more credit. Yeah, he's not ready to tell James yet but, Merlin, Sirius is the best person Remus knows. He's scared. Of course he's bloody scared, with the upbringing he's had.
When they're alone, he takes every available opportunity to make Remus feel like the most important person in the world. He knows Sirius by now, he should know that Sirius needs real time to think on this. They need to have a real conversation about it.
That can wait, though. They shouldn't be ending the day like this.
Shit.
He needs to go and apologise.
Sirius needs to know that it's okay. That Remus really bloody likes him. It's okay if Sirius needs time, he just needs to tell him that. They just need to communicate.
Problem solved.
With that, he shuts his book, leaving it forgotten as he pulls the door to the dorm open. He feels lighter, somehow. Hopeful. They can work through this. That's what couples do, right?
He bounds down the stairs as quickly as his hip will let him, out into the thick of the party. His eyes scan the room, searching for Sirius.
It doesn't take long to spot him, talking to another seventh year. Remus recognises her, he's pretty sure she was in their charms class, a few years back. He's sure he can interrupt them, that's fine-
Until she leans in and kisses him.
Oh, fuck.
Just like that, Remus' heart stops.
For a moment, he just stares. He can't fucking look away. It's no more than a second or two, but it may as well have been hours.
God, he feels sick.
Finally, his brain decides to set him free. He manages to turn away as his soul fucking shatters. He loses all control of his breathing, going shallow as he's thrown into the depths of a panic attack he can't save himself from.
He's an idiot.
He's an idiot for thinking he would ever be enough, he's an idiot for letting himself get this far.
He's an idiot for falling in love with the prat.
The tears start before he has a chance to calm down, pulling the curtains shut around his bed. He cries until his throat is raw, until his head aches, until he exhausts himself. He only has one thought as he falls into a fitful sleep.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Remus wakes up as early as he can, the next day.
The others are probably sleeping off hangovers, anyway. It gives him the chance to slip into the bathroom, unnoticed.
As he turns the shower on, he tries to figure out how the hell he feels. It's like he's having an out of body experience. His body isn't letting him feel any of the night before.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, letting the water hit him, staring into space and trying to figure out how the fuck he's going to tell Sirius.
They were going to go to Hogsmeade, today. Slip away from James and Peter so that they could spend some time together. Instead, Remus has to relive what happened last night. It's not exactly a conversation he's excited to have.
Still, he can't avoid it any longer when someone starts knocking the door.
"Oi, Moony!" James' voice rings out. "I love you, mate, but you've been in there for years!"
"Sorry," he says back, trying to force some semblance of brightness into his tone.
It doesn't take him long to switch the shower off, wrapping a towel around his waist and emerging from the bathroom. James smiles at him, but it quickly gives way to concern. Remus must not be doing a very good job at being fine.
"You okay?"
He just nods once, a horrible lump forming in his throat that he knows will have him breaking down if he's not careful. Thankfully, James is slightly too hungover to ask, so he just squeezes Remus' shoulder once and disappears into the bathroom. The moment the door shuts, Remus realises.
Sirius is awake.
Awake, hungover, and watching him with concern.
"Hey," he starts at a whisper. Remus glances over to Pete's bed. The curtains are drawn tight.
There's no getting out of this.
"Can we talk today?" He asks softly.
For a moment, Remus just watches him. He hates the pang of worry that hits him when he notices the furrow in Sirius' brow, the way his teeth worry at his lower lip.
Well, until the night before comes screaming back to him.
He shakes his head, walking over to his bed.
"No, I don't think we can."
"Moony, what-? Are you alright?" He asks, and Merlin, he really thinks Remus doesn't know? He pulls his chest open, rooting through it for something to wear.
"I think you can answer that," he says blankly. When he doesn't get an answer, he turns to face Sirius. He just looks confused. "That Hufflepuff, from last night. She's the one James was trying to set you up with, right?" He watches as the realisation flits across Sirius' face. His eyes widen, Remus letting Sirius clear his throat a little in his shock, sitting up straight.
"Shit. Moony, you know that wasn't what-"
"What, wasn't what it looked like?" He asks. "I really don't want to hear it, Sirius. You said you weren't sure, then got with a girl. Message received." He shuts his chest a little too hard, wincing as the sound reverberates through his skull.
"Wait, Rem, please. Prongs was just-"
The curtains around Peter's bed slide open, and Sirius' mouth snaps shut. Remus turns and offers Pete a half-hearted smile, before climbing onto his bed and moving to close the curtains.
"Remus," Sirius whispers, eyes pleading.
For a moment, Remus wants to relent. He wants to pull Sirius into a hug and make everything okay. Forget that this happened and draw a line under it.
No.
Not this time.
"Leave me alone, Sirius."
With that, he shuts the curtains and bites back tears.
He almost misses breakfast, in the end. He sits and waits until he hears everyone else leave the dorm, not willing to face any of the marauders, really.
When he does eventually get to breakfast, he sits with the girls instead. Lily shoots him a concerned glance, a question in her eyes. He just shakes his head. No talking. Not right now.
He spares a glance in the direction of his usual spot. James and Peter are sat opposite one another, whispering with confused frowns. Sirius is nowhere to be seen, James throwing Remus a glance every few seconds. When he spots Remus watching him, face blank, he falters.
"You okay?" He mouths across the table.
No. He's really bloody not. He's actually a little worried that if he opens his mouth he'll burst into tears. Instead, he opts for a shrug, turning back to his food.
He feels a little like he's underwater, like nothing's real.
Breakfast is excruciatingly long, even though he's the first one finished. He needs to go. Get away from everybody. From everything.
Usually, he doesn't want to go to class around the full moon. His skin is too busy crawling, his head buzzing to the point that he can't focus. Right now, he'd fucking kill to go to class and distract himself. He stands quickly, desperate to leave. The moment he does, his heart rate spikes and he practically blacks out, stumbling a little over the bench.
Shit.
Yeah, he needs to sit down.
Lily's up in a flash, guiding Remus back onto the bench by the shoulders. She swings her legs over and stands in front of him.
"Slow down, take a breath," she says gently.
He watches James' walk over, before letting his eyes slide shut and forcing himself to breathe slowly. He just needs to hurry up and calm down. They're not going to let him leave if he doesn't.
“Come on, let’s go.” She offers him her hand, slowly helping him up.
“Go?” He asks with a frown. To be perfectly honest, he wants to go and lock himself in his bed, wallow for a little where nobody can bother him.
“The hospital wing,” she answers, James nodding like it should be obvious. Remus goes to protest. He’s not that unwell, this happens all the time around the full-
Hold on.
The hospital wing. Nobody can bother him there.
Lily’s just given him the solution.
With that decided, he lets her lead him out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the eyes on him. James and Peter are close behind, as they walk together to the wing. Madame Pomfrey’s bound to give him something to let him sleep through the day, if he asks.
The moment he arrives, Madame Pomfrey’s sitting in front of him. He doesn’t say much, Lily explaining on his behalf. Poppy nods, listening carefully.
“I think I have just the thing. One moment, lovely.” She pats his knee, standing and walking away.
“D’you want us to stay?” James asks, offering Remus a small smile.
Thank fuck. He shakes his head, trying to mirror James’ smile.
“I’ll be fine. See you later?” They all start to leave, Lily squeezing his hand before she leaves.
It doesn’t take long for Madame Pomfrey to come back, potion in hand.
“It’ll slow your heart down a little,” she explains, as he pulls the cork off and drinks it dutifully. He can still feel her eyes on him, watching him carefully. “How are you feeling, Remus?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Remus says back with a shrug. “Freaked Lily out more than me.”
“Mm. How about in general? You seem a little dejected.”
He stiffens a little at that. Poppy’s scarily good at this stuff, but he was hoping that she’d think he was just stressed because the moon’s close. For a moment, he goes to say exactly that; he’s just feeling antsy, what with the moon being so close.
The moment he opens his mouth, a lump forms in his throat. He can’t form the word fine, it just won’t happen.
God, he’s actually going to cry.
The tears spill over before he has a chance to blink them back. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s telling Poppy everything. He’s careful to leave Sirius’ name out of it, but that’s about as much control he’s capable of. Embarrassingly enough, Poppy hears everything. The conversations they’d had about secrecy, the argument, the fact that Remus wanted to tell him he loved him. Absolutely everything, through tears and a fair amount of hyperventilating.
To her credit, Poppy listens to it all. She sits and lets him vent everything, quietly empathetic right to the last word. Once he’s finished, he feels a bit stupid. The hospital wing isn’t meant for this. He’s taking up her time. He forces himself to take a deep breath, swiping the tears away quickly.
“Sorry.”
“Remus, dear, you have no reason to apologise.” She pulls her wand out, seamlessly bringing a bar of chocolate from her office. “Here. You can stay a while, if you want to.” He fiddles with the wrapper, nodding gratefully.
“Thanks, Madame Pomfrey.”
“Of course. Have a bit of a break.”
She leaves him alone, then. Standing and leaving with a reassuring smile. He practically exhausted himself with all of that. He doesn’t even realise that he’s about to fall asleep until he’s out.
When he wakes up hours later, James and Peter are talking next to his bed. He blinks harshly, sitting up. He didn't mean to sleep for that long, but at least it got rid of his headache.
"Hey," James says. "Feeling better?"
Remus nods once. He actually feels like he's a being a bit dramatic about everything, but it's not like James can hear that, can he?
"Yeah. Ready to go, actually." He swings his legs out of bed, quickly shooting Poppy a grateful glance.
They walk back to the common room slowly. Remus doesn't really speak much. He doesn't have anything to say.
"Padfoot's pissed at me," James says suddenly, scanning the map. "I'm pretty sure he's spent the whole day trying to avoid me. Look, he isn't even in the dorm!"
Remus wants to say something, then. Say that Sirius just feels awkward after what happened between them. Still, he bites his tongue.
"Well," Pete pipes up, "you did get a girl he didn't know go and kiss him."
Remus practically stops in his tracks, stunned. It takes way too much effort to keep his legs moving.
"I didn't know she was going to kiss him!" James protested. "All I told her to do was ask him out!"
"Yeah," Pete shrugs. "He doesn't know that though, does he?"
The realisation starts to dawn on Remus, like ice water running down his back.
"He stopped her in her tracks, anyway. I don't know, I feel like it should have blown over by now, y'know? Nothing even happened!" James says, frustrated, guilt laced through his voice.
"Oh, fuck," Remus groans to himself. He's really fucked up.
"Moony, you okay?" James asks.
"Yeah. No. I don't- I'll see you later," he says quickly, grabbing the map from James and practically running off. He doesn't even think about how confused his friends must be. He can't. His mind is stuck on Sirius.
Merlin, poor Sirius.
With a quick glance at the map, he runs across the castle. It's like his brain has woken up, adrenaline feeding him, letting him ignore his hip. Nothing feels as important as getting to Sirius right now. He's jumped to the worst conclusion of his life.
It doesn't take him long to get to the One Eyed Witch passage. Sirius hasn't moved, as Remus shuts the map, pulling the entrance open. He jumps a mile at Remus' arrival, and Remus catches him subtly wiping the tears from his cheeks. His heart tugs painfully, guilt following along with it.
"M- Remus, sorry, I-"
"I, er..." Remus starts quickly, cheeks pinking a little. "I actually came to find you."
Sirius' eyes widen, and Remus steps inside, shutting the passage behind him.
"I- Padfoot, I'm so sorry."
"You're..."
"I should have let you explain. I shouldn't have just... assumed that you'd do something like that." He says gently, sitting opposite Sirius in the small passage.
"Moony, I didn't- she- I promise-" Sirius' face twists awkwardly as he stumbles for the words.
"I know," Remus answers, reaching out and grabbing Sirius' hands in his. "James said. Honestly? I should have known. It was awful of me, not letting you explain. I'm so sorry."
"No, I get it. Really, Moony, I do," Sirius says hurriedly, squeezing Remus' hands once. "After what I said, I get it. I'm- Christ, I was an idiot saying any of that." Remus tries to wave him off, but Sirius doesn't stop. "No, really. I don't think any of what I said. I'm sure, Remus. I really am sure. I just- I don't know, I freaked out. I was still thinking about Prongs not finding out, but I also wanted to tell you I love you, and I didn't-" He cuts himself off, and Remus can see the shock ripple through him.
Sirius loves him?
"Shit. Bugger. I didn't mean to-" He buries his face into his hands, groaning. "Sorry."
There's already a smile growing on Remus' face, though. This is the last thing he expected.
"Sirius," he says gently, reaching up and pulling Sirius' hands from his face. "I love you."
Sirius' breath catches in his throat, eyes darting over Remus' face.
"You- Merlin, Remus, I love you so much. I'm so in love with you," he says quickly, and Remus just can't take it anymore. He leans in and connects their lips without a second thought. Sirius lets out a muffled noise of surprise, hands moving to cup Remus' face.
It dawns on Remus, in this moment, that nobody else needs to know. He's been so worried about how Sirius felt, that he'd essentially taken the fact that Sirius isn't ready to tell people as a sign that he didn't like Remus.
Who else needs to know? This is theirs.
They can stay secret for a little longer.
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deonsx · 2 days
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Subject and scientist love (Dazai x Reader)
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Content: Smut!, Forbidden love
Dazai is a 22-year-old scientist in a science laboratory, which makes him the youngest scientist there. He has a high-level authority and he has always been curious about the subjects responsible for his research. The subjects were half-human, but they were imprisoned here because they had animal characteristics. The only difference between the subjects from humans is their special abilities and, in rare cases, elf ears and tails Dazai is known for taking very careful care of his subjects, he spent years here at least, but one of the subjects was on his way to becoming the most special of all to him, he just didn't realize it yet
Dazai was a very strict scientist, he never deviated from the rules and he hated those who broke the rules. This was his field of work. He always got along well with the subjects, but he was careful not to be sincere. He always took care of the work procedure and did not show unnecessary closeness. Dazai's longest subject was the one he worked with for 4 years. It was his s/o. The subject is a 20-year-old young girl. She has elf features. Even though her powers have not been discovered yet, she has a very affectionate nature and is also very brave. Since she did not cause any problems for 4 years, she won the heart of even a cold person like Dazai.
After another tiring day at work, Dazai retreated to his office and leaned on the chair and looked at the clock. When he saw that the check-out time was approaching, he started to pack up, but it occurred to him that he had not visited his s/o today today her birthday, even though her was a test subject, when he was with her... it was strange, everything was so lively... Dazai quickly shook the thought out of his mind, he got angry at himself for such a thought, "She's nothing more than a test subject" he muttered to himself and went to the room where s/o was kept, he lifted his card to press the door and the door slowly opened inside, there was a girl sitting on her bed in a short nightgown. It appeared that the room was dark, only the moonlight coming from the window at the top was illuminating the room. The only scientist in the laboratory was Dazai at the moment.
The girl quickly got up from her bed and happily ran to dazai "I missed you!" The girl was very intrusive as always, they only had a business relationship and she had no choice but to remind him of it, but on a day like this? If they were to discuss business procedures even on the girl's birthday, it would break the girl's heart. When the girl hugged Dazai, Dazai waited for a while, but then responded, "I'm glad about that, I couldn't come in the morning due to work," he felt the need to explain, "Happy birthday..." The girl slowly backed away, "I can't see my gift?" he asked with a chuckle. Dazai took a deep breath. It was forbidden to bring anything from outside to the subjects here. He couldn't give them anything. He couldn't even remember the last time he bought someone a gift. "I can't bring you anything from outside in the laboratory."
"What if what I want is in the lab?" Dazai blinked at the girl's answer. "Something you want from the laboratory? Yes, I can give it to you." With a slight smile, Dazai wished that the girl had something to give him on his birthday. "Okay then...there will be no turning back." Before he could even comprehend what the girl said, he was pulled from her hand and sat on the bed. S/o gently grabbed Dazai’s wrist, who was trying to move away again, and brought their faces closer again “It's just the two of us here, you don't need to be wary of anyone” Dazai’s lips came closer... Before dazai approached, she said something and both of their hearts beat fast. ...I love...I love you..their feelings for each other...were not invisible
her pleading gaze locking onto his own. He swallowed hard, feeling a mix of confusion and unexpected warmth at her words. This was not part of the protocol, not at all. Yet, as their faces drew closer, dazai found himself unable to look away. His mind raced with thoughts, struggling to reconcile his professional duties with the raw emotion in front of him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the idea of reciprocating her feelings. But then reality set in - he was her scientist, her caretaker. This kind of relationship would only complicate things further. With great reluctance, he gently moved her hand away and leaned back, putting some distance between them. "S/o..." He started, his voice barely above a whisper. He paused, searching for the right words. "I care about you, more than I probably should. But we can't...we're not the same."
the two were still whispering so they could hear each other “I love you....you should at least be honest with me...what if I were human...then would you reject me again”
Dazai felt his resolve weakening. He knew he couldn't lie to her, not when she was baring her soul like this. He took her hand in his, thumb gently stroking her knuckles. His brown eyes met hers with a flicker of sadness. "If you were human, things might be different." He admitted softly. It was a hypothetical situation that tugged at his heartstrings. He'd always been drawn to strong-willed individuals, and S/o was no exception. Her resilience amidst all this was truly remarkable. "But you're not human,s/o..." He continued, his tone firm but gentle. "You're a hybrid, and I'm your scientist. We have roles to play here, lines we can't cross. And even if you were human, I don't know if I could give you what you want”
"You can give me anything..Osamu.." the girl's intoxicating voice distracted the boy and fascinated his mind, but this did not happen with any power. The rhythm in Dazai's heart could be heard even from outside. While the two of them were now in each other's arms, Dazai thought how wrong this contact was. ...but still he was here. S/o left kisses on Dazai's face, leaving nothing on his lips. They gently grabbed the girl and fell into the intoxicating kiss "You know you want me dazai..."
Dazai bit the girl's lip and made it bleed as if he wanted to interrupt s/o’s words, but then she licked her lip and gave her deep kisses, “what kind of thing are you...” Dazai’s resolve crumbled as s/o’s lips found his once again, her words like fire in his ears. He knew he shouldn't have allowed this to happen, but he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the curves of her back as he returned her kisses with fervor. In the back of his mind, a voice screamed at him to stop, to remember his job and responsibilities, but he silenced it ruthlessly. For now, he wanted to feel alive, to experience something real beyond the confines of the lab. His fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against hers. The taste of her blood on his lips only served to heighten his desire. He knew this was a dangerous path, but for now,dazai chose to follow it. "Fuck," he breathed against her mouth, his voice hoarse with need. "What are you doing to me…”
Dazai’s hands fumbled with s/o’s clothes, pulling them off with an urgency that surprised him. He could feel her warmth against his skin, her heart beating rapidly in sync with his own. His lips left trails of fire down her neck, nipping and sucking gently, leaving bruises in his wake. His own clothing soon followed, discarded haphazardly on the cold floor. Dazai’s fingers traced over s/o’s collarbone, then lower, exploring her body with a mix of hunger and reverence. His breath hitched as he felt her hands on him, her touch sending electric shockwaves coursing through his veins. He pressed her against the bed, his body aligning with hers, the heat between them threatening to ignite the sterile room. Dazai knew this was wrong, but in this moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed this release, this connection, this reminder that he was still human despite his work with hybrids. As they continued to explore each other, dazai couldn't help but wonder if this would change things between them forever
He knew he shouldn't be doing this - it went against protocol, against his morals - but he found himself unable to resist. With one swift motion, he lifted her onto the bed, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. His lips trailed down her jawline, nipping at her earlobe before whispering, he pulled out the keycard to her cell, placing it on the bed within his reach. If he wanted to stop, he could. But as he positioned himself at her entrance, he could feel her body arching towards him, inviting him in.Dazai pushed past the last of his doubts and entered her, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. His movements were slow at first, allowing her to adjust, but soon he was moving with a rhythm born of desperation. He couldn't deny the thrill he felt, knowing he was crossing a line he shouldn't have. But the feel of s/o beneath him, her nails scratching at his back, her breaths coming in ragged pants, made it impossible to think of anything else
He felt her body tensing up around him as she neared climax, her breaths turning into moans that filled the otherwise silent laboratory. Dazai’s hands gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white with restraint, as he tried to maintain control. He wanted this moment to last, to savor every second of their forbidden connection before reality came crashing down on them both. His lips found hers again, swallowing her cries as their bodies moved in perfect harmony. Dazai couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret - this wasn't just about satisfying his desires; he had allowed himself to become emotionally involved with a test subject, something he had always promised himself he wouldn't do. But as s/o’s nails dug deeper into his back and her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer
Dazai knew he couldn't stop now. He moved faster, harder, driving them both towards the edge. When she finally came apart beneath him, her body convulsing with pleasure,Dazai let go of his own control and followed suit, burying his face in her neck to muffle his groans. As they lay there, panting and spent, dazai couldn't help but wonder how he would ever explain this to his superiors...or himself
“We will hide our forbidden love from everyone, my love”
Enjoy!
It was a really long story, it wasn't difficult as I was writing it because the subject was very interesting to me and think of it as compensation for not posting for a long time ^^
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notes-of-nari · 20 hours
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Stray Kids as the Friendly Ghost
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I.N •You were intrigued for many years about the mysterious boy who lives in your twin house. You have seen him randomly either in your shared garden or at the doorstep of his side of the house. Even though you had always wanted to strike up a conversation with him you always decided to do it later because you were afraid that you might embarrass yourself by going there and stuttering (cause you knew pretty well that you were most probably having a crush on him)
•Speaking about crush, it all comes crashing down when you tell a friend of yours about him and she goes on to reveal that the other side of your twin house is actually empty?? You don't believe it until a little call to the person who sold you the side of your house reveals that the other side is indeed empty.
•however when you walk back home you find him sitting on the swing in your shared garden his eyes closed as he silently seems to sing along to a song that plays from his headphones.
•You trip on a stone and nearly fall. He opens an eye and looks at you and notices you look at him. His eyes widen in surprise as his palm flies towards his mouth. he then runs towards his side of the house.
•Your mind is completely in turmoil as you wonder who this mysterious person is. After a sleepless night, you decide to find out the truth for yourself. So you march up to his side of the house and loudly knock on the door. You earn a few suspicious glances from your neighbours but no one answers the door. •You wonder if studying too much has made you go crazy and see things. But this guy was your crush! Is his presence also like your non existent love life?
•However your efforts are fruitful. One day as you stand at his doorstep ready to knock on his door,he opens the door right at that moment. "oh hii" you greet him and his eyes widen again before he shuts the door right in your face. "rude.." you mutter before he opens the door again and looks at you in disbelief. "you can see me?" he asks. "yeah" you shrug. "no wayyy...no.." •you notice a few tears falling down his eyes as he suddenly hugs you. He seems to be shaking as he sobs. You are frozen unable to understand what's happening but you pat his back hoping he would calm down. • "No freaking wayyyy" It is now your time to express your disbelief as he reveals that he is a ghost? He introduces himself as Jeongin. • You are soon able to accept that he is indeed a ghost. (rip your non existent love life/and crush) • Even though you both were awkward at first after some time you both become good friends. However a few days later you wake up to find seven ghosts glaring at you. "If you hurt him we will kill you" One of them threatens while holding a knife at your direction. "No minho is just joking. we won't kill you but please take care of Jeongin yeah?.." the ghost with an Australian accent says before he pulls his friend away and the seven of them disappear.
•"Jeongin the ghost" as you now fondly call him ,drags you on his random late night walks as he explores various parts of your little town. •Judges your fashion taste like Anton ego judges food. What kind of garbage are you wearing in this household? This is uhh a hoodie.. skirt and trousers.". Shakes his head in disappointment while mumbling something that sounds like "looks like a Disney series came to life"
•you wake up one day with a whole fashion critic report on your bedside table. you only have three black hoodies,two jeans,one skirt,and 2 black tee shirts? Let's go shopping bitch.
•Every messy person like you who has a gold fish memory deserves a friend like him. "Did you see my note book?" "You left it on the chair" "Did I visit the doctor last month" "yes you did..you even brought a guide to crocheting on the way back here" " oh shit I forgot that I brought such a book" "jeongin did you take my chocolate chip tart?" "You ate it last Sunday remember?" •Helps you pack your clothes for your three day college trip.But he literally overpacks amidst your protests. "come on jeongin it's just a three day educational trip. I don't need 5 t shirts" He is not pleased about the fact that you removed all the extra clothes he had packed for you. So later that night when you are asleep he adds all those clothes back into your suitcase. Fast forward- 1st day of the trip night, you open your suitcase to find a whole ton of clothes. "YANG JEONGIN!!!!!" ------The ghost who is chilling back at home suddenly sneezes. "I guess she is thanking me for adding the extra clothes" He smiles and shrugs. •If you need someone's true and honest opinion on anything he is the number one choice. No sugar coating just the honest hard truth. •When you ask him if he can help you with your college assignments, "do i look like someone who survived past the 1st year of college?" he deadpans before disappearing. • He gifts you with a pair of shoes and a cake on your birthday. You are so happy and grateful so you try to hug him. But he runs away out of your reach. "come on dude let me hug you once.." "no" he runs around the house ( he doesn't disappear like usual though?) "you hugged me first" you remind him of the day he hugged you after he realized that you could see him. "that was a one time thing" he shouts as he leaps away from your reach. BangChan / Lee Know/Changbin/Hyunjin/Han/Felix/Seungmin
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runnning-outof-time · 2 hours
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Tommy & His Girls | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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read more of the Girl Dad Mini Series — HERE.
request: yes by anonymous
pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader
summary: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.
warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy being a horsegirl
word count: 2089
a/n: back at it with another girl dad!Tommy fic - I just love using this little family I’ve created (if you couldn’t tell) I hope you like this installment of their story!! p.s…I’m sorry if the ending’s corny…I didn’t know how to, well, end it. Enjoy!! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
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Tommy barely said a word as he entered Arrow House. He handed his things to Frances and made a b-line to his study. Things with the business were rough today...they'd been rough for as far back as Tommy could remember. It seemed like he was the only one in the family pulling the weight and that left him feeling like there was war happening inside his head as he made the drive home.
He pushed his study's door closed behind him as he walked into the room, not even caring if the door had enough velocity to latch or not. He trudged his way to his desk after pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. Half of it was downed in the first drink; he really wanted the pain in his head to cease.
Setting the glass down, he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. The first, deep drag he took finally made some of the noise quiet down.
It's unclear how long he sat like that: slumped back on his chair with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The next time he came to, however, was when the office door opened slightly.
"Dad?" a small voice came from the opposite side of the room, making Tommy sit up straighter in his seat.
"Yeah," he answered, his voice not quite audible. He cleared his throat before responding louder, "yes?" He focused in on the doorway, seeing his oldest daughter, Thea, standing in it.
The young girl said nothing else as she fully entered the room and made her way right over to his desk. “You didn’t come to my room to say hello,” she stated, a slight frown present on her face.
She stopped in front of his chair as she finished speaking, her arms open to show him that she wanted a hug. The second he opened his, she fell into them.
Tommy let out a sigh as he felt the weight of his eldest daughter against him. “Hello, Thea,” he breathed, a sigh escaping with his words. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt terrible in that moment. He always made sure to greet Thea when he returned home from work, no matter what type of day he had.
How could he have gotten so frustrated that he forgot one of the most important parts of his day?
Thea was the one to break away from the hug — Tommy could have sat there like that all evening if she allowed it — and step back to look at her father.
He watched her, waiting to see what she’d do next. To his surprise, she made her way over to one of the seats that faced his desk and sat down.
The two stared at each other for a few moments longer. Thea looked as if she was studying her father; like she was taking notes on the entire situation. Tommy was quite confused as to why the ten year old wanted to stick around after greeting him.
Finally, after several moments of silence, he had to ask her just that, “why have you decided to stay, love?”
“I was able to tell that you’re stressed out over work, dad. I don’t want to leave you alone,” she answered him, sounding simultaneously like a ten year old and like a person who was beyond their years.
Tommy took a moment to let her words sink in. Then he couldn’t help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The innocence that his daughters held despite the line of work their father was present in was always something that grounded him, no matter what was going on. He knew that he could count on it to bring him back down from that position of power to just being their dad.
“You can keep working,” Thea’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him realize that he had been sitting there, staring at her for some time.
Tommy glanced down at the papers that were scattered across his desk. They were covered with statements that he truly didn’t want to read anymore. Then he looked to one of the photographs that sat proudly on his desk. It was of Thea, Evie, and Juni. They were all hugging onto each other and smiling their biggest smiles. His eyes finally moved to Thea, who was still sitting with a smile on her face.
“I can’t work any longer,” he said to her then as he stood from his chair, “let’s go and see what your sisters are doing,” he suggested, his statement making Thea rise from her seat as well.
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Tommy and Thea found Evie and Juni playing in the front room.
“Dad’s home!” Thea exclaimed, making the two younger girls quickly turn around.
“Dad!” they both cheered in unison, smiles lighting up their faces.
Tommy smiled as they rushed over to hug him. He could slowly feel the stress leaving his body. “Hello, girls,” he greeted them, rubbing both of their backs as they held onto him tightly.
“Come play, dad!” Juni exclaimed as she pulled away from him to go back to the toys they had strewn about on the floor.
“Have you ladies finished your homework?” he asked the older two before making his decision.
“Course I have,” Evie answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “it was too easy.”
“Mine’s finished as well,” Thea answered with a smile.
“Good,” Tommy nodded, smiling at his girls.
“Let’s play!” Juni shrieked from where she was standing by the toys. By this time she already had one leg in one of the ‘princess dresses’ that the girls had specially made for them. Tommy smiled as he saw the one she’d chosen - it was one that Thea had been given when she was little.
“What game?” Tommy asked, watching as his other girls followed suit and grabbed the things they needed from their toy chest.
“Princesses, of course,” Evie answered like it was common sense….well, in this Shelby household it kind of was. Tommy chuckled at that thought.
“Thea’s the queen!” Juni shouted excitedly.
“She’s always the queen though!” Evie protested, a frown on her face as her hands dropped to her hips.
“I’m the queen because I’m the oldest,” Thea calmly explained to her disgruntled sister, “it’s just one of my jobs as the oldest sibling. You and Juni are princesses because you’re my younger sisters, and you’ll get to be queen once I’m older.”
Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he listened to her explanation. She was truly wise beyond her years, and she handled everything with such grace.
“Fine,” Evie huffed, deciding to accept the decision even though she sounded a little disappointed.
“What’s my part in this?” Tommy asked the three once their conversation had ended.
“The part you always are, dad,” Evie was the one to answer.
“Got it,” Tommy nodded, surpressing a groan as he lowered himself to the floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare let that feeling show. He’d never turn down the opportunity to play with his girls.
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(Y/N) was finally finished with discussing all of the changes that were to be made with the grounds and house keepers. A lot went into preparing Arrow House as one season rolled into the next. Despite the magnitude of the task and all of the moving parts that were involved, (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy overseeing these changes.
Now, however, she was more than ready to get back to her family.
She was able to hear them before she saw them. The giggles of her girls and one of Tommy’s unmistakable impressions. She laughed to herself just hearing it.
The sight she was met with in the front room brought the widest smile to her face. “What’s going on in here?” she made her presence known with a question.
“Mum!” came as a chorus of yells from the three girls as they forgot what they were doing to run and greet her.
“Hello, my darlings,” she greeted them, eagerly accepting their hugs. “What’re you playing in here with dad?”
“Princesses!” Juniper chirped, holding up her wand excitedly.
“Ahh,” (Y/N) nodded in understanding, “and what part is dad playing?”
“He’s the prized horse,” Evie happily answered.
(Y/N) finally looked to her husband. The sight she was met with had her stifling her laughter. Tommy was still down on all fours, and was wearing a rather strained expression as he looked at her through the longer strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.
“Of course he is,” she finally responded, grinning at him before focusing her attention on the girls. “How about we give him a break now, hmm? Frances has informed me that dinner is ready,” she then suggested.
No pushback was received from any of the girls, who promptly began making their way to the dining room.
(Y/N) looked over at Tommy again. He was now wearing a look of relief, and he matched his eyes with hers again just briefly before he began the process of standing up. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his predicament, waiting for him to be on his feet again before she started walking to the dining room.
For once, Tommy was actually relieved to have heard that dinner was ready.
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After dinner the family decided to go out onto the grounds and enjoy one of the final warm, late fall evenings before winter hit.
Juniper, of course, wanted to go to the stables and check on the horses. Tommy happily took her while the older two stayed back with (Y/N). It wasn’t a surprise, however, when he saw the three cresting the hill to join them in the stables.
Later that night, Tommy was - surprisingly - ready to be in bed at the same time as (Y/N). He helped out with tucking the girls in, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could.
(Y/N) didn’t miss the groan that left his lips as he sat down on his side of the bed. “Not as nimble of a horse as you used to be, huh?” she teasingly commented, biting on her finger to stiffle her giggles when his head snapped to look at her. “Maybe they should put you out to pasture.”
Tommy shot her a look that told her she should watch what she was saying. His look made her giggles escape.
“They’ll still treat you as their prized pony,” she conceded, moving over to where he was so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders. “You know how much they enjoy having you play with them,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.
Tommy smiled at the sentiment, nodding his head slightly as he brought his hand up to set it against the spot her wrists crossed each other.
“I don’t believe I’ve asked you…” (Y/N) started after a few moments had passed. She lifted her head from his neck before continuing, “how was your day?”
A breath of a laugh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, silently recounting his day’s events and deciphering what he wanted to tell her. “I came home stressed, but the girls were able to put me into a better mood,” he decided not to go too far into details, settling with a short summary.
“They’ve stolen my job then, hmm?” her question wasn’t the sort of response that he was excepting, and it was one that had him turning his head in confusion, hoping that she’d offer more explanation. “It used to be my job to put you into a better mood,” she remarked, the smile she was wearing telling him that she wasn’t being completely serious about this.
“All of you girls put me in a better mood,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone before adding, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And that was the truth. Without those girls, he probably would have still been in his office, droning over the same stack of papers and nursing his umpteenth whiskey.
Without those girls, he probably would have had to deal with another night of keeping his demons at bay as the shovels hit against the walls.
Without his girls, he would most certainly be a completely different man than the one he is today.
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MASTERLIST
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21
@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings
@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry
@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver
@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder
@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08
@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond
@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable
@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby
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masakuterarr · 3 days
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HxH Character Analysis : UVOGIN
*cracks my fingers* alright peoples, I've been cooking this for DAYS now and I finally have everything gathered (at least I hope so). So lean back, get something to drink and maybe some paper and pen to take notes :) This will be a long one! (btw if there are missspellings I am really sorry, english is not my native language and it's too much that I wrote and I do not have the energy to look over it again- :') )
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Character Analysis of Uvogin, regarding the Sarasa Incident
Numbing and Emotional Detachment
A dumb brute with just muscles and purely driven by the joy to kill. That's probably how a lot of people would describe him. This is actually not really true and I will explain why I think that.
In my perception Uvogin kills because a) it's his 'job' and b) because he wants to drown his own emotions.
There are generally 2 Options we can work with.
Uvogin kills because it's one of the only things that give him a positive feeling, which lasts short term.
Uvogin kills because it's something that numbs his emotions
If we go with option 1, we assume that Uvogin relates positive feelings with killing.
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Killing the people who came to kill himself, assumingly gives Uvogin the most pleasure (kinky lol). Assumingly it gives him some kind of kick of adrenaline, knowing he might potentially gives his life. It's probably a same kind of feeling with the russian roulette. (Most people play it because of the death wish, but I don't wanna focus on that too much for Uvogin. This death wish with Uvogin can be a giant topic for itself-)
I simply think, Uvogin got addicted to this kick of adrenaline over time and now simply can't stop.
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In the german dub of HxH 2011 it's even put a bit better. There Uvogin says "Because dudes like you appear here and there, I just can't stop killing. It's like an addiction"(I am just obsessed with some of the wording in different languages. Plus I LIVE for german dub Uvogin lol)
NOW, what is ironic about this, is that some moments before Kurapika asked Uvogin what they feel when killing innocent people they don't even know. To which Uvogin answers with "Nothing"
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I found this weird so I came to the conclusion that Uvogin has a) to difference between killing innocent people and people who come to revenge or b) he doesn't even know it himself and he is just a confused mess, which makes sense if you consider how his mental health state is after unhealed trauma and unhealthy coping mechanism (but I will go intot his now anyways).
But if we consider Option 2, that killing people is actually numbing his feelings, he might even be the complete opposite of what we thought he is. In this case he might be a emotional mess and killing people is what calms him down.
No matter what tho, Uvogin is heavily addicted to the act of killing and he continues to kill because it's something that distracts him from his emotions. Because judging for how long this has been ago, Uvo is way too deep into this entire hole of killing as coping that he can't bare to face the reality that by now, he is probably even worse than Sarasas murder. So he drowns himself in distraction, pushing the reality down his throat so he does not have to face it. But even if he wanted to, he would probably just break at the actual realization of what he has become.
Extreme Punctuality and The Urge to Control The Uncontrollable
(ah my favorite and the least thing looked at)
At first look it is just a cute funny detail added to Uvogins character to make him a bit more relateable and whole as a character. But looking at it I actually realized a sad thing.
Remember when Sarasa went out alone? The others thought she was just gonna get the tape and come back.
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If you look at it and put it simply. Sarasa was late. You know what Uvo hates? Someone being late. Nice when the realization kicks in, is it? :)
To explain it now;
When they found Sarasa in the forest, it was already too late. Uvo realized that if they were to search for her earlier or just arrive earlier, they might have had a chance to make an impact on the outcome. Or even save her life.
With this in mind, Uvogins focus on being punctional now seems less random. His anger towards his comerades being late probably isn't even intentionally. Sarasa's death might have impacted Uvo with a strong sense of responsibility as well.
He wants to gain control over things he can't even control, which is a really common coping response to trauma. He once lost control over something, which led to a tragic consequence and now he fears to lose control once again. So Uvogins 'anger' is not because he is actually mad, but because he fears that the same thing happened to them. He simply just cares and is scared that the ones he cares about are getting hurt and worst case, even die.
Because it happened once. So it's much likely to happen again, right? This is a common anxiety thought process.
Outer Persona and Antisocial Behavior
It is obvious that Uvo has a certain 'tough-guy' persona that he shows to the outside world. It becomes very clear when he fights against Kurapika
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When Uvogin begins to realize that Kurapika is stronger than he thought and (from his view) maybe even stronger than himself, you can see how this persona is slowly breaking down.
Outer Personas are a common thing for people with Anxiety and Depression. So I think it is save to assume, this is the case with Uvogin. The reason for that can be really simple; from just wanting to not let the others worry about his mental state or just to seem invincible to other people/enemies.
But it can also be, that Uvogin tries to convince himself that he is invincible and not wants to accept how vulnerable he actually as. And yet again, not being able to accept that he wasn't strong enough when Sarasa needed him to be.
To the 'antisocial' part;
When they found Sarasa in the bag back then, Uvo was about to leave her and the others. This always seemed a bit off to me. Why would he leave if he cared so much about her?
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People have various reactions to when they don't know how to handle a situations or emotions. Some people laugh, some cry, some stay silent and some get angry. Uvogin is seemingly someone to cope with aggression or isolation/detachment. He probably just wanted to vanish because he felt weak and helpless, and his body instinctively reacted with aggression and the attempt to cut himself out off the scene.
Even at some point in the fight against Kurapika, you can see how Uvo started to gave up and just emotionlessly repeated himself to Kurapika: "Kill me" .
This also leads to (imo) Uvogin's biggest weakness :
Uvogin and Panic
Uvo is a strong and smart fighter, when it comes to combat. He can probably plan out a lot within just a few moments and has an incredible skill at creative problem solving.
Tho, for me, it tends to panic really easily, leaving him extremely vulnerable. The best example is in his fight against Kurapika but also against the Shadow Beasts. Theres a moment when he got caught off guard and starts to slightly panic, which led him to instinctively cope with aggression;
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In the 2011 anime he even calls one of them "bastard" after collabsing onto the ground.
(small addition here cuz Shal wtf, why do you look like someone got you flowers after your comerade just collabsed onto the ground, obviously about to get tortured now??)
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anyways-
Uvogins Ego and Self Blame
Ofc this can just be Uvo being Uvo, as he thinks a lot of his own abilities and skills, but since this is an analysis, why not looking into it too?
Maybe Uvogin tends to have an ego problem and high temper because he does not want to get reminded that he can fail too. Because in his opinion, the last time he failed, it led to Sarasa's death.
Logically it is obviously not his fault that Sarasa died. The kids straight up didn’t know what would or could happen. But I am very sure that Uvo always blamed himself for it. The same probably goes for Chrollo and the others as well. And since Uvogin is not in a healthy envirnment, nor got treatment for his trauma ever, he surely blames himself.
(And at this point he surely is not able to stop/change his mind on that anymore. Uvo would straight up rage if he was put into a therapist's office LOL)
A similar thought process might have happened when Uvo got kidnapped by the nostrade family and the others had to save him. After all, it would fit a LOT into his pattern of feeling vulnerable and coping with aggression trying to protect his ego. Cuz if he doesn’t he has to face the reality that he was too weak (again) and the others had to save him, putting them indirectly in potential danger.
His thought process is probably something like: I was too weak → others had to save me → IF they get injured or worst case someone dies bc of it, it is his fault → Cuz they had to save HIM. Because this again is a comon pattern when it comes to Anxiety and Depression.
which leads me to the next point;
Overcompensation with strength and the fear of weakness
My last point. A simple but sad one.
Uvo simply feats of being weak. So he purely focuses on physical strength and mastering his nen as an enhancer.
"If I am too weak, I just need to get stronger, right?"
Because he is an enhancer, he would probably think this simple. And even if we look at it from a depression perspective; A quick way out and taking the first idea to not waste any more time. Especially since Uvo does not seem to be much of an overthinker.
He had emptiness and many questions inside him and his first instinctive answer was strength. As simple as that.
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gosh this was a lot- but I warned you before so don't blame me LOL
I hope I was able to explain my thought about him and how I look at him :) I will maybe do a second part, focusing on the "death wish" part I talked about earlier! We will see, no promises.
Feel free to tell me your opinion on this! I would love to hear them 🤍
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honestlynervousnut · 17 hours
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•You can't just leave like this• 。⁠*⁠♡
(inspiration hit me around 1AM plus I've been wanting to do a helicopter crash fic)
One cold night in Los Angeles, down the middle of the freeway the blaring lights of an ambulance could be heard making its way quickly between the vehicles.
After a whole day of intense searching, the helicopter of the 217 had been found with only one person on the inside: The pilot Thomas Kinard, who was now being taken to the hospital after being miraculously found alive.
His injuries were serious -a gash in his head, multiple bruises and a large piece of glass protruding from his belly and lodged in his pancreas- They had put him on an oxygen label to help with his breathing difficulty.
Buck, Eddie, Chim and Maddie were on the ambulance while Hen assisted Tommy, Buck was clinging to Tommy's hand -And he was unable to let go-
"T-Tommy, Tommy Hey...Hey look at me, Hey!" Buck cries giving Tommy's face light slaps trying to get him to stay awake "Come ooon....p-pleaassee" He sobs placing a hand over Tommy's wound trying to stop the hemorrhage. "Don't leave... don't leave me now please...."
Tommy was pale, cold, disoriented and confused as he looked around the ambulance. But that stopped the moment he locked eyes with Maddie. Maddie clocked that.
"M-m....Maaa...." Tommy muttered weakly reaching out for her.
When Maddie realized he was trying to talk to her she quickly got Up and got closer to Tommy.
"Hey...." She said softly as she grabbed his hand "Hey yeah Its me im here... don't worry"
Tommy smiled weakly
"Momma...." He muttered.
The blood from both Buckley siblings froze from the shock.
"No...." Whispered Buck with a hand on his mouth "No....no...nonononono...." He sobbed realizing what that meant, Tommy was in the delirium phase.
It broke Maddie's heart to see the man who, despite not being married to her brother, had been her brother-in-law for a whole year like this, but right now she couldn't fail him, she couldn't deny this to Tommy, so she wiped away her tears, sighed and spoke to him.
"Y-yes...im here hun....im here don't worry..." She said softly stroking Tommy's hair to calm him down, to what his smile just widened.
"I-I did It mom..." He chuckled as a tear rolled down his cheek "I told you I could do It"
"What did you do?" Maddie asked.
Tommy looked at her.
"I finally have a family...." He whispered excited.
Buck and Chim sobbed even more.
Maddie, Hen and Eddie tried to hold the tears in but were failing miserably.
Maddie smiled at Tommy.
"That's.... that's great honey...I-I knew you could do It....god im so proud of you..."
Tommy chuckled but winced from the pain.
"Mom....It hurts....this hurts...." Tommy sobbed lowly tightening his grip around Maddie's hand.
"I know son....I know It hurts" she said stroking his knuckles "But you have to stay strong....for your family! C'mon you can't leave them right now...not like this....you still have a lot left to do!" She remembered him.
Tommy looked at the roof of the ambulance for a few seconds as if he were remembering and then looked back at Maddie.
"Mom...Can you give Evan a message?"
Buck looked at Tommy, Maddie gave him a quick glance before answering.
"Of course hun....what is It?"
"Tell him.... that I love him...and that the only....thing I regret not having done in this life....Is marrying him..." Tommy smiled.
When we arrived at the hospital, the doors of the ambulance opened wide and the doctors took the stretcher with Tommy inside the hospital.
Buck didn't even have time to respond, he collapsed in the ambulance and started crying loudly. Everyone on the ambulance hugged him.
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lailawinchesterr · 19 hours
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love me until i love myself — jensen ackles
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summary: you’re exhausted, but jensen deserves a good night out, not that he wouldn’t notice — tags: domestic jensen basically, gn!reader i think, migraines — universe: comatose
masterlist
You’ve been looking forward to Jensen’s hiatus the second you knew it was coming. Obviously, they’d said a while ago when they’d be done filming but it was announced when they first started months ago, at the beginning of the school year, that there’s no way you’d remember it.
But now, he’s back, finally. You get to see your husband again and it won’t be for a week— it’s for two months. The entire summer vacation. So not only are you spending it with him, but so are the kids which you’re extremely grateful for, it’s been getting hard giving in to their every demand when it’s usually their father that spoils them that way. And it isn’t for any other reason than the fact that you’re usually busy. 
Which is what brings you here, to this time of day, at six in the evening while you’re getting ready to go to the Padalecki’s house. Of course you’re extremely supportive of Jensen, there’s no way you aren’t, but you’re tired, you have been for a few months working yourself to the bone with the kids and your job. But then he came home today, said that Jared insisted they celebrate finishing season 14 at his house, and he couldn’t refuse, and there you are. 
You didn’t complain, just put whatever dinner you were thinking of making right back in the fridge, both relieved and annoyed. Though the annoyance is largely due to exhaustion. You’re sure Jensen can see it, but you’re trying to brush over it, make it seem better than it actually is because the truth is that you’re halfway asleep choosing Rhyme’s outfit. She’s running around her closet with different dresses and you’re trying to convince her shorts underneath are quite crucial— she disagrees.
But it happens. Your makeup is on, Jensen found the shirt he was looking for, Emmy finds her iPad and you’re all finally in the car. You check your phone and find a missed call from Gen that you prepare yourself mentally for before you answer, “Hey, Gen! No yeah, we’re on our way— it's just a little something, don’t worry— no, no we’re almost there. Okay, yeah, bye.”
Jensen’s eyes are already on yours when you’ve ended the call before they go back to the road. “She’s asking if we bought something.”
“But we didn’t.”
“But we will.” He smiles and— okay, maybe you’re a little less tired seeing him so happy. He really does deserve tonight and it’s very low key, just your two families. “We can stop at the bakery on our way— or we could bring fruit?”
You hear it the second you say it and shake your head. You’re not a hundred percent sure what she has in her backyard so you probably shouldn’t bring something incase she’s already growing it. “Yeah, bakery. But not the one next to their house, the blue—”
“I know which one.” He says, noticing how fast your talking. Usually something you do when you’re tired or sick. Which took some time for him to catch on to at first considering how different that reaction is from anyone else who’s ever gotten sick. “You okay?” He asks, his voice gentle as he reaches a hand out to hold yours in your lap. You look over at him, nodding.
“‘M okay, just don’t want you to miss the turn so we can get it.” He doesn’t push it after that, and thankfully he doesn’t miss the turn either so maybe everything will work out okay tonight.
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The night is great, Gen has something simmering in the kitchen while you all get settled in. The kids are playing in the boys’ room except for Emmy who’s sitting between you and Jensen with a coloring book you got her months ago. Your biggest fear was always raising a child who’s attached to their device so you brought her a book almost the same size for her to color in if her screen time for the day is up. She’s usually complacent, like today. And if that’s not an indication of how well tonight is going, you don’t know what is.
Jensen has an arm sprawled behind you both, all four of you talking about the hiatus and filming— Jared and Jensen sharing stories on their past months on set where they didn’t see the both of you. “But I think they’re giving us an extra month this time.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise at Jared’s words, leaning in, “What?”
Jensen hadn’t mentioned any extra months. And you assumed it’d be two like everytime. “Yeah, we’re not sure though, I heard Kripke saying he’s gonna want to be there for the series finale and he’s trying to fix the schedule so he’s free.”
“That makes sense, have you guys even seen him this season?” You ask, glancing at your husband before facing Jay again. 
They both answer ‘no’ at the same time and you ‘huh’ while leaning back in your seat. Okay. Well at least Jensen isn’t hiding anything from you, they really aren’t sure. You weren’t worried but you would’ve been curious if he’d done it. 
Jared’s talking about something on set that reminds Gen of something in their pool and we laugh at whatever she says— you hardly know what Jensen is saying from next to you because why are they all suddenly so loud? And they’re spinning. Great, the room is spinning. Maybe you should sit down— you’re already sitting and your having a migraine in the middle of a conversation as you try your hardest not to wince visibly.
All you notice is Gen leaving the room and Jensen saying something before his hand is holding yours and you’re suddenly not sitting anymore, your migraine is worse, and Jensen has white dots all over his face. 
“Hey, c’mon, baby, you okay? What’s wrong, talk to me.”
“Just— ‘m sorry, just a migraine, I’ll be fine.” It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. You’ve grown accustomed to having them but you try to eat well and take meds if you think it’ll happen when you're out of the house, this one just came out of nowhere. Or, not out of nowhere, you have been throwing yourself into homework and housework and studying relentlessly these past few months and you thought tonight you’d get to calm down instead you’re here.
“What? No, don’t apologize. You’re… you look tired, I don’t want you to push yourself like that for my sake.” He frowns, placing his hands on your shoulders to try and steady you. “Come on, sit down and I’ll see if there’s anything for you to eat.” 
“No, Jensen, it’s okay. I can wait for dinner.”
“We both know you can’t.” You sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment, trying to think of how to make it better. You don’t have any paracetamol, but you do know what triggers it.
“Lights, please, Jen.” He hears you the second you say it, shutting them off then walking back over to you. The kitchen’s open so it doesn’t put you in complete darkness but it’s enough to calm your aching head. “Thanks.” You look up at him, letting him worry over you like this, it’s pulling at your heart. You can usually hide it pretty well if you’re not in the house, but for some reason it’s hitting harder now.
“You gotta eat something.”
“I know, I can wait though, don’t worry.” He doesn’t look like he believes you but you're being honest. You can wait for an hour. Your head will definitely be pounding by the end of the night, and only fourteen hours of continuous sleep will fix it, but you can do it. You have occasionally.
He’s a little convinced as he presses a kiss to your hair and helps you off the chair, “Just sit down, okay? Don't overwhelm yourself.” You nod in agreement, since you were planning on it anyway, then you get back to the couch, this time your heads on Jensen’s chest and it helps to be far away from devices (Emmy’s IPad) and to have him run his fingers through your hair. 
“I’m really proud of you. And I’m happy for you, I wanted today to be super special.” 
He lets out a laugh, low enough that Jared doesn’t ask, “It’s special spending the day with you, sweetheart, you know that.”
You do, he’s made sure of it everyday he’s ever been next to you, still doesn’t stop you from sometimes thinking otherwise, only because of your own head. “Yeah, you and Jay did well with season 14, and I can’t wait to see it.”
He leans down to gently kiss your head again and it makes you smile, letting your eyes flutter closed. Just a few minutes since Jared’s on his phone and Jensen just playing with Emmy and your hair, it’s peaceful. As peaceful as it’ll get in this hectic life of yours— that’s you’ll always share with Jensen. 
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title: did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd by lana del ray.
comatose verse: you and jensen’s little life cause i love him sm and i’ll probably write more for him so u basically have three kids: emmy (4), lucas (5), rhyme (7). & gen and jared have their pretty kids tom, shep & odette!
fucking kill me why can’t i write one dean/sam or jensen/jared fic without the other being in it ughhh. anyways, this is super self indulgent and you should probably take my phone away cause this is like the seventeenth thing i’ve posted in two weeks or something and i don’t even plan on slowing down. to the sam request in my inbox, you’re next (i think).
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princess-of-morkva · 23 hours
Text
to find you again
Arthur Pendragon was ten years old when his world finally began to make sense.
It was in his fifth grade, when his class went on a week long camping trip. He didn't know, at the time, what compelled him to sneak out of the tent in the wee hours of the morning, when the first rays of dawn lit up the treetops and his legs carried him towards the shore of a lake. It's surface was shimmering in morning light, and he could feel his breath halt, afraid to disturb the serenity of the sight that felt so otherworldly. It may have been some divine compulsion or simply his innate, childish desire to explore that made him go further, then, until his rubber flipflops were left on the shore and his bare feet touched the water.
There was a hand then, that rose out of the water, translucent and not entirely present, an image out of mist. There was a hand, and then another, and then the head and the body — a figure arose from the lake, smiling at the little boy that intruded her realm.
"Hello, Arthur." She spoke, and her voice didn't carry through the air like a human's would, rather, it sang with the wind, hit the ears like tiny drops meeting the water. "It's good to meet you at last."
He stared at her, for a long moment, before answering.
"How do you know me?" He frowned at her. Father told him not to talk to strangers, and this might have been a very pretty woman made out of mist, but she was still very much a stranger. Still, he didn't step out of the lake, for his curiosity was much greater than his father's teachings which felt so far away at the moment, and there was no one around to see anyway.
"The world speaks to me. I can't leave this lake, but I can see far beyond it." Her answer was not an answer at all, Arthur thought. His confusion must've been evident, because she smiled at him again, and there was a mischievous hint in the corner of her lips that made her look not so much like a spirit in a lake but a living and breathing young girl, but the next second it was gone and Arthur was left to wonder if he imagined it entirely.
"Why can't you?" He asked.
"It's were I was put to rest." She spoke the words so evenly, as all of the things she previously said, that it took Arthur a few seconds to catch the meaning of it.
"Does that mean you're dead?" He asked, hoping not to offend her with it.
"Not exactly. I'm here, aren't I?" Once again, her answer gave more questions than it answered.
"There are ghosts." He said. Arthur wasn't sure there were, actually. His father didn't believe in such things.
"I am different from ghosts."
"What are you then?"
"A guardian."
Arthur nodded, as if it made perfect sense. It didn't.
"Do you have a name?" He asked. It was only polite to ask for a person's name when first meeting them. Than again, lake-guardian-spirits could have entirely different etiquette.
"I was called Freya, once." There was a small smile, again.
Arthur nodded musingly.
"It's a pretty name."
She hummed.
"Do you often speak to people?" He never heard of such entities as her. It couldn't have been a common occurrence, surely. But wouldn't that be lonely? Having no one to talk to?
She shook her head, and there was a wistful look in her eyes.
"I haven't spoken to anybody in centuries." That couldn't have been nice, Arthur thinks. If she could speak to him, why didn't she speak to others?
"Why'd you speak to me than?" Freya didn't answer immediately, pausing the flow of their measured back-and-forth. It almost looked like she was unsure, but her features were still so calm, it was impossible to tell.
Then, she asked. "Do you have dreams, sometimes?"
It was a silly question. Everybody had dreams. Arthur understood immediately though, it wasn't the regular kind of dreams she was talking about.
Because the thing is, Arthur did have dreams. Ever since he was little. He remembers dreaming of white towers and battlements, of bright red banners and capes. Of metal clanging and laughter and a weight of a sword in his hand, on his hip. Of familiar faces he could never quite place. Of raven curls and bright blue eyes, especially often.
He never told his father about them — he'd call such things foolish. Arthur didn't think they were.
Arthur looked at Freya and nodded. There was a glim of relief in her eyes, he thought.
"Would you like to see more?" She asked, offering him her hand. Not solid in any common way of the world but in that moment, more real than any other thing around them.
Arthur didn't think twice before grasping it.
-----
please tell me if you'd like to see more of it because i love the thing in my head so far
where is merlin in it? he's gonna be there. with a twist. it's a reincarnation fic but with a twist. it's also very merthur. or as much as it can ever get with my aromantic ass.
also it's modern au but i still haven't decided on a more specific setting- should i do college au? i'd be horrible at it even though it would make sense thematically- i haven't been outside in years how does society function? how do i write it?
can you see i love freya? i love her very much
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