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strayinvelvet · 3 years

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[what a fool in love]

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute

wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but got carried away)

warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!

a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.

he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.

it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while.

so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it.

During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.

there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you.

now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.

your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...

“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”

“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.

startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”

no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.

he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.

he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?

while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.

what is this guy on...?

when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say.

“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”

and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.

“what?”

“Ms. Kim-”

“no wait i heard that. just... what?”

at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.

“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).

however, he’s hopeless from his mess.

with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”

well shit.

“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”

“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.

“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.

“when?!”

“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”

“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”

“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”

“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.

the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.

for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.

“soo...” you tried to start.

“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.

you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”

“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.

"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.

little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.

#districtninewriters #inkidz #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids au #han jisung au #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #han jisung fluff #han jisung x you #stray kids x reader

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philliamwrites · 3 years

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killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.1]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 2k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla," sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia's hands.

____________

Loosely connected chapters about you and Childe finding happiness. Maybe.

Notes: Part 2

Masterlist

***

childe? what a problematic asshole i hate him i- *trips* *thousands of pictures of childe spill from pockets* fuck those aren’t mine i swear i’m just holding them for a friend i- *slips on a pile of pictures* fu ck no they’re not mine i hate him i just- *more pictures fall out as i fall to my knees, desperately trying to pick them up* hang on a sec jUst LISTEN

Chapter 1

A cold gust of icy wind drives you deeper into the sheets and you swear by the name of Her Majesty Herself once you get up and find Alexei, you’ll smother him with a towel for leaving a window open in the middle of the night.

Somewhere outside, a rooster crows. Fine, not dead of the night then, but no one cares for technicalities like these when sleep is involved. Especially after a night like this one, when Alexei fucked you into oblivion and back, you need every minute of shuteye you can get before another day of exhausting missions in the Chechnaya Taiga of Snezhnaya claims your last strand of sanity.

It’s peaceful mornings like these that make it all worthwhile though—the quiet during the early golden hour when people slowly wake up to a brand-new day and get ready to do their chores, their factory work. The sheer number of possibilities stretching out before their hands, and hope rekindled every morning despite the harsh cold waiting at their doorsteps. You love how everything stands still, how even the uncaring universe seems to grant people a sliver of peace, allows them to be soft and vulnerable. To be kind to themselves by indulging in a freshly brewed cup of coffee or tea. Nothing can spoil this for you, nothing and no one—

An awkward cough sounds from the door. You close your eyes, willing him to disappear by simply ignoring him, but his eyes burn into the back of your head like two smouldering coals and eventually, you turn around to see Alexei standing in the door frame, shifting from left to right. “There’s someone out there who wants to talk to you,” he says.

Turning around, you try to disappear into your pillow. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they can wait until it isn’t such a damn unholy time.”

Alexei clears his throat. “It’s uhm … it’s someone from the Fatui.”

Your eyes snap open. Suddenly the warm, cosy blankets feel like a snake’s tight hold around your body, and you struggle out of its grip, grabbing for the dressing gown you carelessly threw around the back of your chair last night.

The sun hangs low in the east, painting the city of Kerch that stretches outside of your window a sheen of dusky gold. When the red-brown bricks of the dacha cottages come into view, you think of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child every year in celebration of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of the Zapolyarny Palace.

Cold already seeps into your bones even though the robe is tight around your body. You hiss when your bare feet hit the icy floor but can’t find your slippers. Time to die like a woman.

You brush past Alexei, who’s scratching his head, still just in his underwear and you think him crazy for walking around half-naked like that even though it’s minus 58F outside and the heating systems inside your barracks only start to work once outside temperatures drop to minus 75F.

Maybe what they say is true. People from around Noyabrsk in the north of Snezhnaya regularly dip into frosty rivers and you do remember him mentioning ice swimming is his hobby. It was one of the few things you thought attractive about him. Actually, it was the only thing you thought attractive about him.

Light streams into the floor from the kitchen, flickering once, twice in dangerous foreboding. It’s time to switch the lightbulb. Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure, because that isn’t important right now. What’s important is Tartaglia sitting at your table, leaning back in a chair, both feet crossed on top of the table, and eating your leftover mayonnaise sandwich you saved up for breakfast.

His eyes slide lazily toward you, taking in your form—barefoot, shivering even though the fur from your bathrobe is of the finest white wolf fur obtainable on the market.

Tartaglia finishes your sandwich, smacks his lips and licks mayo off his fingers. He doesn’t even like it, and you know from time to time he can’t handle dairy all that well. He just eats it because he knows how it infuriates you.

“Alexei, huh,” he says in lieu of hello. “Didn’t know you’re into himbos.”

Behind you, Alexei makes a sound like a kicked puppy. You glare at him over your shoulder, then jut your chin towards the front door. “Out. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly fast for a guy this big, he bolts into your room, gets dressed in record speed and leaves your little one-bedroom apartment without so much as a Goodbye or “We’ll hear from each other,” and you prefer it that way. It saves stuff from getting messy.

Speaking of messy, you really wish Tartaglia would have sent you a note before coming. The smell of icy wind and snowy forests clings to his clothes. He must have come straight from a mission, not unusual in the slightest, yet in most cases he sends a message your way just to make sure he doesn’t run into one of your one-night stands and it doesn’t get ugly.

Like right now.

“I thought you had a little more class than that,” he says nonchalantly. His feet keep wobbling from left to right until you make your way over and push them off your table. Not that you actually sit there to take your meals, no. But this is your home, you have to assert dominance.

“Well, I’m not picky,” you say, taking the empty chair opposite from him. “The nights of Fyrva’snezh are really fucking cold.”

“I’m sure Fire-Water will do the same trick.” He’s sulking, yet he has no right to it and knowing Tartaglia, that’s why he sulks even more.

Your relationship can be summarised with one word: complicated. Which is funny, because besides martial arts classes (taught by a teacher that is a real ball of sunshine who could easily snap your spine like a twig) and infiltration tactics courses (led by a grumpy teacher who once woke you all up in the middle of the night to do a spontaneous quiz about infiltration steps and everyone who failed or fell asleep had to run a marathon through the forest in their underwear) you had to take at the Fatui military school of Zapolyarny, they also teach mathematics and molecular physics, and that shit was complicated.

Growing up in a small seaside village—bless little Morepesok; how much you miss babushka Katya’s refreshing botvinia soup—with only a handful kids your age, gravitating towards Tartaglia was the natural development. He loves ice-fishing, you love eating fish. You gag just smelling solyanka, he wolfs it down like it might be his last meal on earth. Opposites attract each other, as they say, and how true it is for you two—you, the morning person and he, the night owl; his will of iron and your nerves of steel. Your bow, his sword, even though Tartaglia is a masochist who likes to make it hard for himself by trying to switch weapons solely because you’re better at it than him and he is a sore loser.

His worship of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, your fear of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

“I don’t think you came all the way here just to call me a slut,” you say. He is in no position to do so anyway, because Camilla from the ptychy’moloko shop down the road that leads to the Sarov church didn’t shut up about blowing him for weeks until you sent her a liver of a pig and claimed that was the leftovers from the last girl that thought she could put a leash on the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Camilla quickly moved on to an inconspicuous merchant who sells matryoshka dolls for a living and all is well that ends well.

“What do you want?”

Tartaglia starts tapping a gloved finger against the wooden table, a nervous tick you don’t know he’s aware of.

“I’m leaving for Liyue first thing tomorrow.” His tone is low when he speaks, his earlier nonchalance replaced by a sense of urgency.

“Okay.” It isn’t the first time he’s leaving Snezhnaya by order of the Tsaritsa, but every time he does, something inside you leaves with him. “So, you want me to keep an eye out for Teucer and the others?”

“He’s really unhappy I’m leaving again already.” Tartaglia doesn’t mention the reason he was sent away just a couple of months ago to Inazuma was because he accidentally blew up an artillery factory belonging to a nobleman that secretly shipped orders to Fontain. The fallout from that was easier to handle with him not being anywhere nearby. Tartaglia is like a pair of hot tongues; no one is sure where to put him or how soon he would cool off, but if they just drop him, he might light the world on fire. Kid gloves are put on and a careful perimeter marked out.

“And what excuse did you make up this time?” You knock your foot into his leg, lingering on his calf just a second too long before withdrawing again. “Another business trip to promote your toys? You can’t hold up this charade forever, you know.”

“Why, your eyes feast on Snezhnaya’s greatest expatriate toy seller, now extending to the Liyue Branch of our Institute for Toy Research.” Tartaglia’s eyes have taken on a playful glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “You wouldn’t be so cold to break a little boy’s heart. That’s not you.”

You want to remind him that you have no problem to put an arrow between a man’s eyes, or rip out his fingernails, one by one, to get the information that you want.

“You owe me, toy man.”

“Put it on my tab.”

Tartaglia looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but as always, he decides to swallow those words even though they must hurt like swallowing needles. You know that feeling, and so you help him sort out his tightly entangled yarn of emotions by figuratively pushing him off the cliff.

“Don’t forget to bring condoms. I hear the women of Liyue are beautiful.”

Tartaglia goes a sickly grey colour, like the ashes of a dead fire, but he’s been the leading role of this play too long to fall out of character now. He gets up and stretches like a cat getting comfortable in a spot of sunlight. His jacket rides up, showing a stripe of skin, and you quickly turn your head away before giving into leaning over the table and mark him with your teeth.

Patting his left pants’ pocket, Tartaglia says, “I’m always prepared.” He carries a grin that is dry, humourless, and for a brief moment, you two lock eyes, trading a look that feels like a dare. You allow yourselves to imagine how he picks you up and carries you to your bed where you two would proceed to fuck without abandon through the whole day and the following night, leaving the bed only to get food until Tartaglia leaves for Liyue and you’d send each other love letters until his return. What an idea. What an utterly stupid, naive, wonderful idea.

“Well, lucky ladies,” you say, not bothering to hide the jealousy in your voice because jealousy is easier to handle than regret.

“Lucky indeed,” he agrees and dons his easy-going smile, one that he’s perfected after hours upon hours in front of the mirror until it accomplished what he wanted: to mock people, infuriate them.

On his way out, he stops to ruffle your hair in an affectionate way, one typical for childhood friends, but the distance between you is like the ocean separating Snezhnaya from Liyue.

It was on the very first day of your conscription into the military organisation, Number Six of the Ten Laws that the Fatui abide by: Any physical or romantic relationship between Fatui agents is prohibited. As thou would not exchange flesh with thy brother or sister, so thou shalt not with your comrade, for he or she is thy brother or sister in arms.

And everyone knows Her Majesty the Tsaritsa’s word is law, and though the law is hard, it is the law.

__________________________________________________

please drop by my ko-fi if you enjoyed my writing!

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact childe #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia #reader #reader insert #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you

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tsuki-xoxo · 4 years

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One Day At A Time

Overview: The moment you first saw Shinso’s performance at the first year Sports Festival set off a chain of fateful interactions and an unrequited declaration of rivalry. Now, as you stand hand in hand with your husband-to-be, you can’t help but think back to everything that brought you here.

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Word Count: 3741

Genre: Scenario, Fluff

A/N: I had so much fun writing this for the POCuties Server Collab: ‘A Wedding to Remember!’ My heart went binkie boom doom. I hope you all enjoy best boi Shinso!! And thank you to @tui-lah for beta reading, I appreciate it! You can find the rest of everyone’s amazing works here.

The flowers entwined between your fingers twinge with sweat from your palms as the beating of your heart ran a mile a minute. Exhaling a breath, you briefly glanced at the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers before the double doors broke you from your reverie. On either side stood your best friend, Mina, in a beautiful gown that accentuated her figure, and Kaminari, your husband-to-be’s best friend.

Mina beamed, the black sclera of her eyes twinkling as she caught onto the small sigh of contentment that left your lips as you basked in the physique of the love of your life in a tuxedo at the end of the peddle-filled aisle. The light reflected from the vibrant bouquet, which made you look dazzling in the spotlight. Carrying on an otherworldly trance before the two left your side, not before the blonde sent you subtle thumbs up.

Facing your groom, your eyes roamed his figure, giving him a once-over. The tuxedo hugged him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim build. The black of his suit had a velvet quality to it, and brought something out of him, a self-respecting pride and confidence that had you nibbling your bottom lip.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Bond,” you whispered with a cheeky grin. You couldn’t help yourself, Shinso looked like the perfect action man with a license to thrill. His typically messy indigo hair was slicked back, or at least tried to be, you had to give him an ‘A’ for the effort. You peaked at the tips that were haphazardly pushed back, intertwining into a beautiful chaos-- you’d fix it later into his naturally ruffled tufts.

You heard a breathy snort from the man across you. Looking up, your eyes latched onto an all-too-familiar pair of glaciers that resembled hyacinths and the lazy-smirk that had the corner of your eyes softening.

Shinso reaches out to you as soon as the one to wed you both begins to speak, his calloused hands holding yours. It’s funny actually, as you gaze at your intertwined hands and the paleness of his skin of how the two of you ended up in the aisle together, rings readied to be worn, and a life promised to spend together forever.

You remembered it like it was just yesterday.

After his fight with Midoriya during the first year Sports Festival, you left the stands to find the General Studies student in the hall. Luckily for you, you saw him in no time, the striking lavender hair and familiar U.A. uniform that he wore was hard to miss. You quickly fell into step with his languid steps.

“Shinso Hitoshi, right? I’m (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

With his ashy lilac and deeply sunken eyes, he faced you with a bored expression on his face. “Okay.”

The two of you walk in silence for at least a few minutes, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck before he speaks. “Uh--” he clears his throat a little awkwardly, “why are you following me?” It was a simple question, not one that harbored an accusing tone, and you were almost shocked by the fact that he made no effort to chase you away.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, smacking your forehead, having forgotten to announce the reason why you followed him in the first place. “My bad, dude, I can’t believe I forgot. You’re my rival.”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his pace slowing even more until they stopped.

“Rival, y’ know where two people compete for the same objective or superiority.”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “I know what a rival is, but why are you declaring that you’re mine.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You thought that at this point, it was obvious enough for him to catch on. Maybe he was a bit slow; the bags under his eyes may have killed a couple of brain cells over the years. “‘Cause we have the same goal,” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “We want to prove everyone who doubts us wrong.” Mich like him, growing up with an ‘evil’ Quirk, you’ve had a fair share of gossip surrounding you. That’s why you wanted to be a hero, to end the discrimination against labeling Quirks as villainous.

“Really?” he paused, “what would a student from the heroics course know about being deemed as a criminal.” One look into his eyes, and you already knew. The bitterness in his orbs was unmistakable.

“More than you know,” you murmured, refusing to break eye contact.

The mauve haired boy’s uninterested expression softened at the dispute in your eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin. Looking at you properly this time, like he really saw you as a person, not just some random stranger that decided to follow him around.

“Sorry, but no,” Shinso stated, the usual indifference lacing his tone, the smile falling from his face. “I’m not looking to make friends or rivals.”

You giggled mischievously at him, the purple of his eyes side-eyeing you with weariness. “You’re cute,” you state bluntly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. His expression is replaced with a gawk at the pure boldness from you, red splotching on the apple of his cheeks. “You actually think you have a choice! See ya soon, rival!”

With that, you turn on your heel, searching for your homeless-looking homeroom teacher. You have the perfect recommendation for an intern.

“(L/N)?” he demanded, stunned by your sudden appearance.

You turned your head from your position on the floor, stretching, glancing toward his direction. “Hey, rival.” The boy looked slightly different from the last time you had seen him, with a bandage-like material wrapped around his neck, similar to Aizawa’s.

Hopping onto your feet, you brushed the dust off your hands, walking onto the mat placed in the middle of the gym as Aizawa spoke up. “Shinso, you’re training with (L/N) today. It’s a joint training to access your weaknesses, first to get knocked down or pushed off the mat loses,” he said, his expression never changing.

Bending down a bit, you prepared to make a move before the boy with lavender hair stopped you in your footsteps. “How the hell did you get Aizawa-sensei to agree to this?” he asked with an amused look in his eyes.

Smirking, you peered up through your lashes, looking at him with faux innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yes, you do. At the Sports Festival, you told Aizawa about the general studies student, but Aizawa was already aware of the male since he had taken note of him. Unsurprisingly to you, your teacher decided to mentor the student, and it took a lot of bribing and coaxing for you to convince him to join just one training session, but that’s all you needed.

You stiffened immediately, your eyes glazing over as you become immobile, not even able to process or think properly. You watch the white of your rival’s teeth move, and the next thing you know, you blink, conscious, and off the mat. The stoic male wore a bored expression on his face as your eyes widen in realization, he just brainwashed you.

It was as if a match sparked over you as you glared at him. Lunging forward instantly, taking the purple-haired boy by surprise, you brought your leg up to kick him in the shin as he lost balance. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, you pounced, both arms wrapping around his torso as you tackled him, or at least tried to. It seemed that Aizawa had been training his student well because the tackle didn’t do anything besides move him backward. Quickly, you leaped back, creating a space.

The boy’s ruffled hair from his night’s sleep and current fight had strands sticking together, slick with sweat. “What, that’s all you got?” Shinso asked, but you bit back a sharp remark, refusing to take the bait again.

Failing to evade the knee that came straight for your abdomen, the impact knocked you back slightly but lacked to knock you down. You were taken aback by his speed and accuracy, and for a second, you wanted to smile at the growth of the male that stood in front of you, it was like he wasn’t the same boy that had lost to Midoriya.

Focusing on the match at hand, you dodged his next onslaught of attacks, moving efficiently to evade them with the slight knowledge of his fighting style from the Sports Festival. Thanking yourself for forcing all those hours you spent training your physical abilities, you moved forward the moment you noticed Shinso starting to take labored breaths from his never-ending assaults. However, before you could even register what was happening, Shinso loosened the material around his neck, effectively capturing you amid some ridiculously strong bandages. With the help of the capture tape, he swung you around, gathering momentum before releasing you. Before you were thrown off the mat, though, you grabbed the white scarf and pulled yourself safely in bounds.

With record speed, you raced across to meet Shinso, the capture material moving forward to shield its wielder from an attack, but you abruptly shot your arm up, tensing the male’s muscles you pushed it out of your way, continuing your route to the lilac haired male. Using your remaining strength before your sight dotted from vertigo, a drawback to your Quirk, you used both of your arms to grasp onto his, crouching you flip him over.

Falling flat on the mat, you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to regulate the spottiness surrounding you. When you heard shuffling, you peaked an eye open, pointedly-eyeing the hovering male.

“You’ve gotten better,” you commented.

Shinso let out a soft chuckle. “You’re not half bad,” he countered, crossing his arms before adding, “besides when you became a sore loser and just hopped back in here without a word.”

You gave him a non-threatening pointed look, “hey! I forgot about the brainwashing bit for a second there. Can you blame me?”

Scoffing, you took his outreached hand and pulled yourself up with his combined effort.

“I mean for a rival, that was just sad,” mused Shinso, running a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random directions, suiting him.

The corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, a slight stinging sensation from the cut on your lip from the fight somehow, but you didn’t care as your smile widened into a brilliant grin since Shinso finally acknowledged you. “Rival, huh?” you laughed, feeling absolutely delirious.

After Shinso acknowledged you as his rival, you both became training partners and soon enough close friends. Before either of you knew it, you were already in your second year at U.A., and your purple-haired friend had been accepted into the hero course.

You’re not exactly sure when you started developing feelings for the boy. Maybe it was the moment he exposed his perfectly aligned teeth, glowing with happiness and hope. Or it was his innate ability to spark a conversation with anyone, despite having a reserved and calm attitude. Even stating that he had no interest in making friends, yet you swiveled your way in and surrounded him with support, along with Kaminari, the greenette, Midoriya, and even the cerulean blue-eyed Monoma. Or it’s his aspiration to usurp anyone who walked the same path as him to become a Pro. Either way, there was no denying the flutters roaming around in your stomach.

As you heaved, trying to catch your breath, your exercise friend was doing the same, but talking about something, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. Just hearing his voice made your stomach tingle and your heart beat erratically in your chest so hard that it felt it’d burst. You followed the beads of sweat trickle down his face and run onto his lips, focusing how the red of his tongue would peak out to catch the salty droplets.

When your eyes met, you swore that your heart thumped so hard that it was audible, even for him. His eyes, those deep magenta orbs that could tell a whole story just by looking at them, felt like you were injected with liquid adrenaline into your bloodstream, and the entire zoo grew rampant in your chest. Shinso’s cat-like eyes felt like looking into the sun for too long-- a maze you could get lost in and soon enough be blinded by. He was so effortlessly looking handsome.

And his hands. The same slender ones that have been on you time and time again, training after training. The image of his hands brushing against your own as you walk flickers throughout your mind, growing into a daydream of your own intertwining. Suddenly you speak, “Hitoshi, I like you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your confession, mouth ajar, and hand frozen on his capture material. The intensity of his gaze put a crack in your steely disposition as you glance the other way. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say anything, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

You watched as Shinso grinned, shaking his head in disbelief, his arm rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t one to smile much, never having much reason to and the fact that it took too much effort. But every time you spoke, you somehow made the corners of his mouth tug upwards each time. You didn’t merely speak words with no meaning behind. With every word you spoke, they were curt, straight to the point, and your conversations didn’t need the time-consuming falsehood of small talk. So, it was no surprise when you bluntly admit your feelings to your crush.

Like you promised, you never forced Shinso to speak up about your confession, not once asking if he felt the same way. You guys’ relationship continued to grow without a hitch, but that never stopped you from making flirtatious remarks with the male from time to time. A cheeky grin permanently painted across your face every time you were with him.

Scrambling up to your feet, you hurriedly made your way over to him despite your aching muscles. Clasping your hands around his neck in a chock-hold, you used your legs, dropping him on the ground right then and there.

“What were you saying about beating me?” you asked, laughing in between pants.

After three years of regular quirkless and quirkful combat with Shinso, you both had improved drastically every battle with one another. It took you everything to drop him over your shoulder like before, but you collapsed on the ground next to him, panting as soon as you did.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Shinso retorted, looking at you. Picking up on your exhaustion, he rolled over, immediately entrapping you with his weight as he grabbed both arms with his own, pinning you down.

“That’s not fair! The match was already over,” you pouted, however made no effort to push him off. He grinned, breathing out, his breath fanning over your face. It took mere seconds for him to realize the close proximity of your two faces, his own heating up, instantly taking on a rose hue. He hastily scrambled off of you, looking away as he tried to calm his face.

“Damn, I was hoping to be wrapped in your arms for longer,” you teased, whipping a fake tear delicately from your face.

He coughed at your words, choking on the water as his head snaps at you from the comment, hints of pink still present on his cheek. “Huh? Wha--”

“Relax,” you scoffed, propping yourself up with your elbows. “I’m just fucking with you.” As you made your way to your bags that were thrown onto the floor, you patted the male’s toned back as to acquiesce that everything’s alright. But before you can maneuver around him, Shinso’s hand latches itself on your wrist.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling you toward him. You make no move to pull away, feeling safe and secure in his arms, not the edge of intensity that comes with dancing with danger in your daily life as a hero-in-training. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning into Shinso’s embrace, even more, an affectionate smile on his face.

He tugs your cheek softly. “I like you too.” You stay silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushes against the skin he just pulled, and fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, you find yourself leaning into his palm, the ends of your lips tipping up slightly. You two focus on one another’s eyes, and all your common sense shuts down because the attention he’s giving you his startling, the vibrant violet of his orbs near closer, stealing your breath.

You brought your hands to the back of his neck, and in an instant, his lips found yours with a content sigh. Your eyes flutter shut, and even in darkness, you see light exploding. Although his movements were gentle and slow, his lips were firm, the two of you moving in perfect sync, sending shivers down your back. With each move, the blurred lines of your friendship beginning to clear, forming something new entirely. Parting your lips, you sighed as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, his lips plump and red.

Fluttering your eyes open, you find Hitoshi wearing a sweet smile on his face, filled with affection. His smile was one of happiness growing, much like spring flowers. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. While your heart was pounding, and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you, the silly smile never fell from your face.

“Finally.”

You and Shinso have been dating for five years now, debuting and growing as Pro Heroes. As time passed, your love for him got even stronger. Whenever he looked at you, it was like every ounce of air was taken from your lungs, floating in the sky like a midnight smoke cloud. Every time your lips tangled, the world would stop, leaving just the two of you wandering the earth together. When the two of you cuddle, and he holds your face between his hands, it’s like he’s keeping you in an eternity of security.

When the two of you were patrolling the streets, you came across chaos and panicked citizens. In the distance, there were flickering flames that hinted something deadly.

“Stay near me, (Y/N), and be careful,” Hitoshi announced as you catch up to his hurried pacing, nodding in acknowledgment, walking right into the heat of battle. The scene you were met with was unlike the disarray clues you had witnessed from the running citizens earlier.

All around, you could see the burning of bright orange flames as they devoured everything in their path. Your nose scrunched up in alarm from the smell of charred concrete and ash as they dusted the air. The moment you observed your surroundings, you wished you hadn’t. You narrowed your eyes as a menacing creature hovered around a horde of panicked civilians that desperately tried to scramble away. The beast had an ugly beak head with wings and extra limbs, and bloodlust radiating out of its beady eyes. It’s what every Pro has been acquainted with, a Nomu.

“Ready?” he grunted, quickening his pace to match yours.

“Always,” you answered, reaching out an arm, and in an instant, you immobilized the Nomu-like creature grasping hold of one of the unfortunate bystanders, your boyfriend running by you with his capture scarf in tow.

You rushed over to the person ungracefully falling with its captor. Grabbing the man’s arm, you slung him over your shoulder as you hauled him to safety. The man gasped out a thank you, slumping over a wall a fair distance away from the fighting, trying to catch his breath.

When you ran back into action, you and Hitoshi captured villains, the Nomu, and protected citizens. Multiple other heroes had arrived at the scene at this point, and the creature had been dragged out of by policemen, sirens echoing down the streets.

You had been rambling to your boyfriend about your costume, mentioning that you’d need to see Hatsume soon for some upgrades, but as you glanced over at him, you recognized the far offness in his eyes.

“Hitoshi?” you ask with furrowed brows, snapping your finger in front of him.

He blinks, his hands finding purchase around your waist. He pulls you closer as he nudges his head between your neck, and you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. Pulling back slightly, he reaches for your hands, interlocking them. A light smile adorned your face as you looked into his unblinking dark purple eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Now, as you stand in front of your soon to be husband, you feel the way your heartbeat picks up while your lungs fill with more air, but at the same time, you feel incredibly light. This is it. You’re seriously going to marry the love of your life.

There is so much to admire about him like his raw honesty. The way his words spill out real slow as if the truth can take its time. There’s like a force behind them, yet the kind that is respectful and quiet-- an observant and patient determination. He supports your pure, unadulterated personality, the good and bad. But of everything, it was looking in his eyes you loved the most. That’s all you ever needed to connect, just you and him, eyes, no words.

“You may now kiss.”

Shinso ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him, placing both hands on either side of your face. You two share a brief but deep kiss, yet you two are still grinning afterward as cheers from friends and families surround the two of you like magic, causing you to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.

In a world of chaos, the two of you find a place where togetherness means peace, where savage winds cease, and no clouds can block the warmth of the brightening rays.

And neither of you would want to have it any other way.

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mageofseven · 4 years

Note

Could I request MC hanging out with the brothers but having a hard time enjoying it cuz they’re stressed from school? How long would it take for each of them to notice MC just isn’t having fun and what would they do?

Of course, Nonnie! I actually really like this prompt~

Lucifer:

The oldest noticed within the first day of them being stressed

However, he left them to handle it on their own, thinking it was just a rough day and that they should be better by tomorrow.

When tomorrow came and they weren't better, the man grew concerned.

He invited them out to dinner Friday to take their mind off of whatever has been plaguing them.

When the human didn't seem to be able to relax during dinner, he simply sighed.

"Please, tell me what has had you so tense these last few days."

They told him that their Devildom History class was getting too overwhelming; there was too much that happened in the last few millennia and too many dates to remember. They felt they couldn't keep up like the rest of the class could.

"MC, the rest of the class has been studying this material for a few hundred years at least." The man reminded them. "Neither Diavolo nor myself expects you to work at the same level as the other students."

He admired that MC took their studies seriously, but found it silly that they would compare themselves to students who were so much older than themselves, even if they didn't appear so.

After dinner, he took them for a relaxing evening stroll, which helped the human clear their head a bit.

Mammon:

He knew within the first couple of days they were stressed out.

The second brother took them out to a party and usually they loved parties, but that night they just... felt weirdly distant. They would say that they're having fun, but it all just seemed... force.

The man didn't like it. He pulled them to the side.

"Oi! Enough with the fake smiles, Human!" He told them. "What's with the silence?"

MC stared at the ground.

"I...I failed the exam last week." She mumbled. "The teacher handed the tests back Monday and it was the worst I've done yet."

Really doesn't understand it.

Yeah, he gets anxiety when he fails stuff too, but that's only 'cause of Lucifer. He doesn't actually care about his grades beyond that.

Takes them home since they aren't really feeling it. The two hangout in his room, blasting music as they curl up on the couch together.

MC is still upset, but appreciated the closeness.

Leviathan:

Doesn't really notice at first, too absorbed in the video game.

When he finally passing the level he's been struggling with for the past hour, he turns to MC, seeking praise, but the human isn't looking at the screen or him, but rather into space.

Immediately feels dejected. Is he boring them? Probably. Who could have fun with an otaku like him? That's the thoughts running through his head that start spilling from his mouth.

MC has to reassure him for a while that what he's worried about simply isn't true before explaining things.

The amount of classes you were expected to take here at RAD was... overwhelming. Eight different classes that demanded so many hours of studying outside of it.

MC didn't even feel like it was okay to be spending time with Levi right now because her anxiety kept screaming at her that she was falling behind.

Boy is instantly awkward upon hearing about their stress.

How...how was he supposed to help? The otaku did not have the social skills for it.

MC sighed.

"I should...probably just head back to my room--"

Panicking, Levi grabbed their arm.

"Levi?"

The man looked away before tugging them close, letting the human lay their head on his shoulder.

"J-Just... relax." He mumbled, face red.

MC gave the demon an odd look before giving a small smile and snuggling into his side.

It didn't solve their issue, but the human appreciated his worry.

Satan:

Noticed the stress as it developed.

MC was struggling to keep up in their Seductive Speechcraft class and it was taking its toll on them.

Didn't want to say anything until they come to him however; this is their business after all and he didn't want to bug them about it if they just wanted to handle it by themselves.

Still quietly worried though.

Invites them to his room one evening to read together, hoping some quiet time will help them relax.

He saw that their gaze usually found it's way more towards the window than down at their book however.

The man sighed, lowering his book.

"Alright, please tell me about it."

"Huh?" They turned to him, confused.

"You have concerns about the Seductive Speechcraft material, correct?"

"I... yes." They mumbled, looking away from the blonde.

"Well, what about it is stressing you out?"

MC blushed.

"I... I understand most of it from a theoretical standpoint, but... the actual use of it all is difficult for me. I always score low on the practical exams."

The demon smirked.

"Well, I suppose some practice would be the answer."

The two have a rather enjoyable study session. It was actually useful to the human though and they felt more confident with the material.

Asmodeus:

Notices it while the two are out shopping.

Asmo just came out of the dressing room and expected compliments about the outfit. When they never came, the man pouted.

Despite loudly announcing his entrance, the human was still staring into space.

"MCCCC, Look at me!"

MC glanced at him.

"Looks great..."

The fifth brother huffed.

"Doll... what is it?"

MC sighed and just kept it vague, saying school was just a bit much for them right now.

Asmo frowned. He went and paid for the outfit before leaving with the human.

He dragged them straight to his room, earning a confused look from the human.

Spa Day, begin! Massages, nail polish, face masks, the whole nine yards!

The two talked and Asmo listened his Doll vent about some other students in her class talking shit about them, even though MC was pretty sure they had never talked to those demons before since coming to the Devildom.

Hypes up his human tells them how wonderful they are and that those demons obviously have no life.

Tells them that those jerks aren't really worth their time-- but if MC is interested in revenge, he's got some dirt ready for them.

Beelzebub:

Probably the brother who is the most sensitive to their mood shift.

It comes with the territory; Beel is more or less the rock of his family, helping them out whenever he can

And, especially when it comes to Belphie, Beel has learned to be observant with these sort of things.

So when MC first showed signs of stress, the poor boy was worried.

He's still a pretty quiet guy though so he wasn't really sure how to approach the topic with them.

Asks them to walk with him to Madam Screams

It was a quiet walk. Once there, he managed to get them to order something though, which made Beel feel a little better.

On the walk back, that's when he decided to speak up.

"So," He finished the last bite of his donut. "Are you feeling okay?"

The human shrugged.

"I dunno." They stared at the brownie in their hand. "Just kinda... I dunno."

Beel, not interrupting them, gives MC a minute to collect their thoughts and continue.

"Hey... is it possible to drop classes at RAD with me being an exchange student?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow at the human.

"Nevermind, it nothing..."

"Are you having trouble with a class?"

MC stared down at her feet as she walked.

"Maybe..." They mumbled. "My Hexes class is just... it goes a bit too fast for me. I don't think I'm really learning anything."

The demon listened as the human talked about how behind they were in the class and how overwhelming it was. At one point, they even started tearing up.

Beel stopped in his tracks, pulling them into a hug.

MC looked up at him surprise.

"It'll be fine." He promised. "Let's go talk to Lucifer about this, okay."

The human nodded, causing a tear to fall on her cheek.

Before they could wipe it though, Beel did for them.

"Let's go home." He gave them a small smile.

MC smiled back.

Beel felt that he couldn't do much to help, but was glad he could direct them to Lucifer, who could.

Belphegor:

This boy notices more than people think.

The human just seemed out of it during the day

And even sought him out for naps when it was usually the other way around

MC just seemed so disconnected from him and his brothers those last few days, not to mention a bit tense.

That's what led them to the planetarium.

The two laid on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

Though the human still seemed distracted, they at least seemed calmer.

That wasn't enough for the demon though.

He gave a big sigh.

"So what's the problem?"

"Huh?" MC looked over at him, confused.

"You heard me; what's your problem."

The human bit their lip.

Belphie rolled his eyes and pulled the human to his chest.

"You can talk to me, Dummy."

"I just... I've been having some trouble at school is all."

Belphie narrowed his eyes.

"What trouble?"

MC sighed.

"There's this guy in my Hexes class who... he's not all that nice." They explained. "He put a fake flame on my uniform Monday and made me embarrass myself in front of the class while trying to put it out... and all my teacher did was shame me for not recognizing illusion spell he used."

Belphie's arms tightened around them.

"Give me a name."

"Belphie, no."

"Why not?"

"Because I know what you are going to do and I don't want you getting in trouble for me."

The boy huffed, annoyed.

"Then tell Lucifer or something; don't let them get away with that!"

"But... if I tell Lucifer, the teacher will probably get in trouble too and the last thing I need is to get on their bad side, especially in a class I already struggle with."

"Then maybe he could get them replaced or something, I dunno, but you shouldn't just lie down and take it."

MC didn't say anything, just hid their face in his chest.

The demon closed his eyes, letting himself calm down before laying his hand on their head.

"I care about you, Butthead." He told them. "Now you gotta start caring about yourself too."

The two ended up falling asleep together on the floor. Nothing really change, but cuddling up with Belphie and explaining the situation really did make them feel a bit better.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc

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radiorenjun · 4 years

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, mentions of blood, science (ew), mentions of death, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting.

• Wordcount : 9.4 k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: IX, X

• Song rec of the chapter : Start Over Again - New Hope Club

“Shit, I didn’t think it would be this bad.” Hyuck exclaimed as they finally managed to drag Jaemin out of the arcade. “Why was his wrist glowing like that?!” Chenle exclaimed as Jaemin gripped his wrist tightly, trying to make the burning sensation subside. “Idiot, didn’t you pay attention to Science class?” Hyuck replied as they watched Jeno (who had ran off to the nearest run towards them with a small packet of ice cream mochi in his hand.

“This was the only thing nearby, put this on.” Jeno handed Jaemin the cold packet, who thanked him softly and carefully placed the packet on the burning skin. “What’s happening to him?” Jisung asked, looking at his seniors as Jaemin leaned his back against the wall, slumping against it with a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the searing pain.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just a little wrist pain. It’ll go away sooner or later. I-” Jaemin muttered under his breath before Jeno cuts him off with a strict tone. “Shut up, Jaemin. You’re not okay,” he spoke sternly before running a hand through his hair in distress. “Hyung, what’s going on?” Jisung asked, in a more serious tone, truly concerned for their dear friend.

“It’s his tattoo. It’s burning his blood.” Hyuck explained, his usual teasing tone was now replaced with a serious one. His eyes staring straight at the glowing red skin as the younger boys stared at him in shock, Jaemin’s head shot up in surprise, eyes wide to see if Hyuck was messing him or not. “Hyuck, that’s not funny.” Jaemin let out a strained laugh, letting out a sharp hiss when Jeno pressed the cold pack harder onto his skin. “It’s not a joke, Jaems.” Jeno scolded softly.

“How is that even possible?” Chenle asked, baffled. Jeno rolled his eyes as he released his tight grip on Jaemin’s wrist, causing the younger boy to glare at him, pressing the ice pack against his wrist gently. “Guess someone never payed attention to Science class,” Hyuck muttered under his breath, receiving a punch on the shoulder from Jisung. “Get to the point, hyung.” he frowned.

“From what I remembered, that tattoo is connected to your emotions. It’s like the old red string soulmate theory. It’s the only thing that connects you with your soulmate. if you found your soulmate but they reject you or hurt you in any shape or form, the brain registers emotional pain of heartbreak in the same way as physical pain.” Jeno explains briefly, as Jaemin’s eyes widened at the new information. How come he’s never heard of this before?

“When the tattoo appears, it turns into some kind of blood vessel that connects to the emotional part of your body. And when you experience some form of heartbreak that’s caused by your soulmate, the tattoo somehow produces bacteria that burns your blood on your left wrist, hence the bright glow.” Jeno adds on, sighing, a hand going back to scratch the back of his neck. Hyuck nodded, “I knew this because Jeno gave me his science notes when we had that science test,” Hyuck exclaimed, putting a hand on Jeno’s shoulder who gave him a deadpanned look.

“There are some cases that the pains were so bad that they had to be removed.” Hyuck added on. “And let me tell you, it’s not a fun process to do so. It’s pretty rare, but they say if you’re not careful, removing it might mentally break them.” Hyuck unconsciously rubbed his own wrist, wincing at the mere thought of getting a part of his skin peeled off.

“So all this time. All the chest pains, all the wrist pains I’ve been enduring, was because I was feeling emotionally hurt by my own soulmate?” Jaemin asked in a rather hesitant tone, his pupils filled with disbelief. “Not hurt, per say. More like jealousy.” Hyuck concluded with soft shrug. “Jealousy?” Jaemin gaped, his mouth opened in disbelief. He didn’t know what to say. Or if he could say anything at all. It was all too much to take in.

“Yep. I don’t know if you noticed, but every time you see Renjun and Y/N together these days, you often glare at them as if you were going to have lasers shooting out of your eyeballs into Renjun’s skull.” Jisung joked, a small smile appearing on his face, trying to ease the awkward tension around them. “You need to seriously stop lying to yourself. If the world set you up together, you’re bound to develop feelings whether you like it or not, that’s how this fucked up soulmate system works.” Hyuck groaned in annoyance.

“You’re more stubborn than Jeno when his mom told him to not get a cat because he’s allergic to fur.” Jisung nodded in agreement. Jeno turned his head to the younger boy, letting out a soft, “what?”

“Very funny, you two.” Jaemin rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, hyung, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so stubborn bout going against fate.” Chenle huffed, leaning his arm against Jaemin’s left shoulder, looking at the older boy with sympathy in his eyes. “Wait, does this mean,” Jaemin paused as his mind drifted back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and a slight tint of horror.

“All this time, y/n felt this excruciating sensation for two whole years?” Jaemin gulped. By the way Jisung and Chenle gazed at their older friends curiously, he assumed they didn’t know any of this. A part of him didn’t want to talk bout this in front of them. Yet, another part of him was too curious yet nervous to find out the answer, for his friends’ reactions had said it all. The two boys looked away sadly, bowing their heads to avoid eye contact with their best friend. Jaemin felt his heart drop into his stomach, your innocent smile flashing through his mind, causing his guilt to fill him up even more.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jaemin asked, guilt filling his veins like a running tap filling up a jug with water.

“We wanted to. At first, we thought you knew. That’s why we were rather hesitant when talking to you since that day,” Hyuck exclaimed with an exhausted sigh, biting his lip nervously, referring to your birthday. “Then when you said you almost failed science back then because you didn’t bother reading the notes we shared, we were about to tell you,” Jeno continued hesitantly, his own eyes filled with guilt, remembering how Jaemin hated the ideas of soulmates so much, he didn’t even want to listen to the teachers explanations when it comes to the soulmate system that he purposely didn’t study for the soulmate part of the topic for the test.

“But then,” Hyuck cut him off.

2 years ago

“Dude, you barely passed Science, what’s up with that?” Jeno gaped, seeing Jaemin’s low score displayed on the pin board their school had set up beside every entrance to each class for event posters and test scores. Jaemin shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes filled with disinterest. “This was like the easiest topic of the whole semester, how in hell did you get a 72?” Hyuck exclaimed in disbelief.

“I didn’t bother to study with this one,” Jaemin shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Dude, it’s about the soulmate system. The only interesting topic in the whole school year, it’s all basic knowledge.” Hyuck deadpanned, nudging Jaemin’s arm with his elbow. Jaemin rolled his eyes, groaning in annoyance. “So? I don’t want to know shit bout that lousy system.” Jaemin replied with pursed lips.

“Shit, man. That’s kind of mean. I bet you didn’t even know that if you hurt your soulmate you’ll-”

“Haechan! Jeno!”

The three boys turned to see you smiling widely at them, though the smile didn’t reach your eyes. You quickly jogged up to the two boys, grabbing the, by the elbows in each hand, gripping onto them tightly. “Hey Nana!” you greeted, giving your soulmate a loving smile who just sent you a small friendly smile and a small wave. “Sorry, do you mind if I borrow your friends for a bit? I got something to say to them,” you giggled nervously, tugging them backwards to say it’s urgent so that Jaemin couldn’t catch on.

“Where did you come from?” Jeno asked, raising a brow at you. You frowned slightly, “through the wall.” You replied in a sarcastic tone, causing Hyuck to let out a soft chuckle. “It’s really urgent. I really need to talk to you guys,” you spoke seriously, tugging them back as Jaemin raised his brow at you suspiciously. “What’s so urgent that you got to take my friends away from me, huh?” Jaemin teased, causing you to let out a soft laugh.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you winked, giggling. “But we have class in less than-” Jeno was immediately cut off by your desperate tone as you tugged them back quite roughly. “It’ll just take a second!” you said nervously, eyes pleading at them to go with the flow. Hyuck and Jeno shared perplexed looks before letting you tug them away from Jaemin.

“See you in Chemistry, Jaemin!” Jeno waved at his friend, who waved back with a soft smile before turning to the other direction to get to his locker. You pulled Hyuck and Jeno around the corner, looking back to see if you were far enough from Jaemin. “What’s up with you Y/N? You look like my little sister when she told her teacher that I ate her homework.” Hyuck asked in a concerned tone.

Your smile from before dissipated into a rather exhausted expression, sighing as you leaned back against some random student’s locker. “You guys have to promise me to not talk to Jaemin anything related to the soulmate system.” you frowned, eyes boring onto theirs seriously. Jeno frowned, confused. “Okay. Why though?” he asked questioningly.

You looked back, making sure Jaemin was nowhere to be seen before hesitantly speaking. “He doesn’t know anything bout the soulmate system. Like, literally nothing.” you started, rubbing the back of your neck in distress, letting out a pained sigh. “He’s been that way ever since we were kids, you know that, Jeno. And it’s best if we keep it that way,” you explained.

“Y/n, no. You know full well what’s going to happen. You’re gonna get hurt, like physically hurt, y/n. We need to tell him,” Jeno shook his head, refusing boldly with Hyuck nodding in agreement. You sighed, smiling softly. “I knew you were going to say that. But really, I’m going to be fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” you waved it off with a light smile.

Hyuck and Jeno gave you uncertain looks. “I’m serious.” you huffed with a slight pout, “I appreciate you two caring bout my well being but I’m really going to be okay. Trust me,” you held up two crossed fingers from your left hand, grinning sheepishly. Hyuck and Jeno eyed the sore mark around the tattoo on your wrist, identical to Jaemin’s which was red as if it had been gripped tightly by someone.

“Y/n, you’re gonna get even more hurt. You need to tell Jaemin, what if he stops being stubborn if you just tell him?” Hyuck tried to reason, feeling his own wrist sting by the sight of yours, wondering how painful it could be to feel such an awful sensation. You let out a soft shrug, “I don’t want to see him sad like that. I am his soulmate after all, soulmates are suppose to keep each other happy.” you smiled, though Jeno and Hyuck could see the sadness through your pupils.

“What’s the point in that? You’re just gonna keep him in the dark so he can be happy while you suffer in pain every day? That isn’t fair, y/n. It isn’t fair to you nor to Jaemin,” Jeno furrowed his brows, feeling frustrated with his stubborn friend. Why couldn’t he just get over the whole ‘I’m going against fate because this whole soulmate system sucks’ bullshit?

You gigged softly, looking down at the sore mark around your tattoo, caressing the balloon doodle with your thumb. “You two don’t fully understand. I want him to love me, but I don’t want him to love me just because he’s forced to.” you sighed, taking your two friends aback slightly. “Maybe one day-” you shook your head profusely, trying to shake the negativity out of your head.

“No, I know one day, he’ll love me back the way I love him. I just need to be patient with his stubborn ass. I’ll never stop trying until that happens. And when that happens, maybe none of us will be sad anymore.” the sad yet hopeful smile you plastered across your lips was enough to break Jeno and Hyuck’s heart. They wished you and Jaemin could have an easier plot to your story, wishing that you wouldn’t have to go through such a painful process just to make your soulmate happy. But love makes you do crazy things, and they knew they should respect your decision.

“How are you so sure? It’s been months, y/n.” Jeno asked rather hesitantly. But he needed an answer why you couldn’t just tell him. Hyuck nodded, he couldn’t find the courage to speak. Hell, Hyuck didn’t even know what to say to you, not when you were looking at him as if you were clinging on to your last hope of life. You gave him those sad smiles you only see in movies when a main character knows they’re in for a long painful ride through life.

“I’m actually not.” you replied shortly, putting your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “But this is what love does to me. It makes me feel as if I gave up on this, I’m going to have the whole world turned upside down. I guess I’m just that whipped.” you shrugged simply, kicking a crumpled ball of paper someone dropped earlier. “Love? What is love, really?” Hyuck asked in a rather bitter tone, recalling the hurt expressions you would always have whenever Jaemin wasn’t looking.

You paused to think bout it for a moment before looking at the two boys with a knowing look, “I don’t know myself. But it feels amazing to be in love, I want it to last as long as possible. Even if it might not work out for me in the end, I just want to at least cherish it while I can,” you grinned, giving them enthusiastic jazz hands.

“So, can you promise me that you’ll both keep this between the three of us?”

“So you both actually kept it from me all these years?” Jaemin exclaimed, feeling anger overwhelm his whole body. Hyuck’s head shot up, “she looked tired enough, we couldn’t say no, you asshole!” he shot back defensively, jaw clenching tightly. “Telling you would be like taking her last bit of hope, she didn’t want to burden you with the thought, so she kept it to herself, you ungrateful douchebag!” he spat, his face red with anger as he stared back at his friend in disbelief.

“Oh, so you decided to let her suffer internally so I can feel like shit about it later on? Sure, Donghyuck!” Jaemin shot back, pulling the frozen pack to clench his fists by his sides. “Oh, so it’s y/n’s fault now, is it? That’s what you’re implying?!” Hyuck growled, letting out a groan of annoyance at his best friend’s stubborn self.

“You ass, you really can’t see how fucking stupid you’re being? She’s your fucking soulmate, for fucks sakes! Get your head out of your ass and wake up, if you just showed a bit of interest with the whole soulmate system then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place!”

At this point, things were getting a bit too intense for the two boys, Jisung had to step forward and grip his senior’s shoulder, in case Hyuck tried to do something to Jaemin. “Shut up, Hyuck. You don’t even know what you’re talking about! You’re just one of those people who follows this fucked up soulmate system, you just don’t get it!” Jaemin took a step forward towards the older boy, jaw clenched tightly in anger.

“Yeah, sure, if this system is so fucked up, then what bout you, huh? What about you, Na Jaemin?”

“What about me?”

“If this whole system is fucked up, like you say it is. Then what about you? Don’t you think it’s fucked up that you keep hurting your own childhood best friend for your own selfish purposes, you prick?”

“Hyung, I think thats-” Jisung attempted to coax Hyuck to stop before he did some permanent damage to their whole friendship, only for the older boy to shrug his hand away with a harsh scowl on his lips. “Shut up, Jisung. I’ve had it with this bullshit, it’s time he opens his fucking eyes and stop acting like a fucking brat.” Hyuck spat back at the younger, causing the poor boy to sigh in defeat.

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Jaemin felt his heart ache, not in the way whenever he would see you or Renjun. It was a different kind of ache, it felt as if tiny sharp objects were slowly piercing through his heart. And Jaemin was afraid that he didn’t know how to make it stop.

“It’s funny how you just tossed away her feelings for your own for two whole years. You didn’t even know that she was hurting, right? You treated her like shit for two years: throwing away her cookies, her gifts. Taking her kindness for granted, rolling your eyes at her whenever she was in the room. Not to mention talking shit bout her behind her back.”

“I do not talk shit about her behind her back-”

“Oh, really? What about those times you complained how clingy she was? How she was suffocating you with her presence? How she was getting annoying day by day, huh? What do you call that?”

“I was just-”

“You were just what, Jaemin? You were just pissed off? Or was it because you didn’t think she was right behind you listening? Or is it gonna be another of your petty excuses?”

Jaemin couldn’t respond, he didn’t know want to say. He admits that what he’s done in the past wasn’t the nicest things, but he was just upset whenever he said those things. He froze in his place, unable to find the right words to respond. Or rather, he couldn’t respond at all.

“Oh, so now you have nothing to say? Just admit that you’re being irrational about this whole situation, Jaemin. It’s not that hard to admit that you’re wrong, you bastard. No wonder Y/n replaced yo-”

Before Donghyuck could finish his sentence, Jaemin pushed Donghyuck by the chest harshly in anger. Hyuck took a few steps back at the harsh impact, his scowl turning into a smug grin. “Shut up, Donghyuck.” Jaemin growled, shrugging off Jeno’s hand when Jeno stepped forward to gently coax Jaemin to let it go before they both do something that’ll get them in trouble.

“Did I hit a nerve? You know it’s true, Na. You just won’t admit it!” Hyuck growled, causing Jaemin’s blood to boil under his skin. Both of his fists were clenched tightly, ready to punch something. Or rather, someone.

“Stop it, Hyuck.” Jeno barked, his tone getting an octave lower. At this point, Jisung and Chenle were eyeing their elders cautiously, ready to drop their snacks to the floor in case a fight breaks out. “What? I’m not lying, aren’t I? It wouldn’t take a genius to know that Y/n basically replaced him with someone clearly better for her. I mean, Renjun’s would be a way better soulmate than your selfish ass, anyways.” Hyuck taunted with a proud glint in his pupils.

“Hyuck, stop it before you’re gonna regret something,” Jeno barked once again as Jaemin clicked his tongue, his jaw clenching tightly as the atmosphere thickens between the three boys. “If only Y/n wasn’t cursed to be soulmate with an asshole like you, then she didn’t have to put up with your ungrateful ass for all these years!” Hyuck exclaimed, raising his hands up dramatically to rile Jaemin up even more.

It all happened so fast.

In a split second, Jaemin launched himself onto Hyuck, grabbing the younger boy by the collar. “Take it back,” Jaemin spat in his face, tone laced with anger. Hyuck still had a proud smirk on his face, provoking the boy even more by his smug expression. “I’m happy she didn’t have to get stuck with you for the rest of her life despite being cursed for having the same tat-”

Hyuck didn’t get to finish his sentence when Jaemin’s fist collided against the side of his face. “Jaemin! Hyuck!” Jeno ripped the two boys apart, holding Jaemin back before he causes a ruckus. Jisung and Chenle held Hyuck back as Jeno began to scold the younger boys, “Fuck off, Jeno!” Jaemin tried to shove Jeno off of him, but Jeno tightened his grip on Jaemin’s shoulder, holding him back tightly.

“Jaemin, stop it you’re making a scene.” Jeno hissed as Hyuck let out a cocky “Ha!”, getting out of Jisung and Chenle’s grip. “No, Jen. Let him go, maybe if he beats me up, he’s gonna realize how shitty of a human being he’s been.” Hyuck taunted with a sinister laugh, causing Jaemin to let out a harsh growl at his friend. “You little-”

“Hyuck, stop provoking him. Jaemin, calm down before someone calls security!” Jeno struggled to keep Jaemin at arms length from Hyuck, Jaemin’s pupils darted at the people around them staring, whispering and crying out for someone to get security. He felt anxiety crawl up his skin at the countless of eyes glaring at them, but one that truly caught his eye was your own figure walking out of the arcade.

You had a skip in your step with an enthusiastic smile on your face as you stared back at your friends, pointing at the nearest food court as you looked back at your friends. His eyes widened slightly when he saw one of your friends pointing towards the crowd around them, anger soon being replaced with a strong surge of panic.

Jaemin masked his panic with an incredulous scoff, shoving Jeno’s hand off of him with an annoyed huff before bumping his shoulder against Donghyuck who gave him a death glare as he stomped off to the parking lot as fast as he could, ignoring the eyes of strangers as he leaves his friends behind.

“Son of a bitch!”

Jaemin couldn’t be anymore thankful that his parents were away on a business trip for two weeks, they didn’t have to see their son experiencing a mental breakdown right before their eyes. Jaemin slammed the door shut as hard as he could, hitting his fist against the door in anger, swearing loudly as he vents his anger out on the white wooden door.

His fists were red with pain, but at that moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he wanted was to block out the pain he was feeling deep down inside of him and let it out before it exploded inside him. Before the pressure broke him inside and outside.

Eventually, the sound of his fists hitting the wooden door stopped. Jaemin took a step back, panting, his hair messy, his blood boiling, his heart racing in his chest, exhaustion filling his entire body. He collapsed onto the mattress of his bed, sighing out. Jaemin felt exhausted, mentally and physically. He felt like being stuck in his room for the rest of his life. He felt like he wanted to just disappear.

Jaemin turned over to his stomach, burying his face against the soft fabric of his pillows. His heart ached even more, his wrist wasn’t burning anymore but it still left a dull ache in it’s wake. And for once in his life he wasn’t covering his soulmate tattoo with his watch or wristbands. Jaemin’s glassy eyes stared at the small tattoo that got him into this big of a mess in the first place as his mind keeps spinning in his head.

The tattoo that was once a bright doodle of a small red balloon floating in the middle of two clouds had now transitioned into a dim crimson red, the white color in the clouds and the bright red color in the balloon were barely visible. Jaemin assumed that was probably the side effects of either the pain killers he took or the tattoo releasing bacteria from the emotional pain in his chest.

Jaemin chuckled to himself, turning his head to see the half empty bottle of pain killers standing innocently on his desk. Laughing lightly to himself at how frustrated he gets whenever the pain wouldn’t stop despite taking the maximum dosage. “I’m so stupid.” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his face with his palms in frustration.

On second thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw your tattoo. Jaemin’s brows furrowed, at the thought. Come to think of it, you had been covering your own tattoo up these past couple months. Either with the matching friendship bracelet he got you for your 16th birthday, joking how you should cover your tattoo with it, hours prior to when your tattoo appeared.

You wore it all the time since then. The charms on the bracelet were large enough to cover the small tattoo on your wrist. Were you using the bracelet as an excuse to cover the marks your tattoo left on your skin from everyone else? Was your cheerful demeanor a facade all this time to cover your pain from Jaemin so that Jaemin wouldn’t feel guilty for hurting you?

Everything was a mess.

Jaemin wanted this whole problem to just disappear.

He groaned as he sat up from his bed, eyes examining his bedroom. The distant nostalgic sound of both of your laughter echoing in his mind as he recalled the times when you two used to joke around and make each other laugh so hard you had to hold your stomachs. The memory of him flicking your forehead whenever you do something annoying to make him laugh. Pupils staring at the small pebble that sat at the corner of his desk, his mind fluttering back to the time when you were 15.

“So I have a present for you.” you giggled, barging into his room and dropping your bag carelessly in the middle of the room. Jaemin looks up from his phone, raising his brow as a smile stretched across his face. “Is it food?” he asked, an eager smile stretching across his face as he watched you pounce on his bed with your arms stretched out like a starfish.

You turned to your best friend, giving him a bittersweet smile before letting out an evil, loud, maniac laugh, leaning you head back for a dramatic effect, abruptly turning to Jaemin with a deadpanned expression before letting out a cold emotionless, “no.”

Jaemin frowned, his bottom lip jutting out as he whined. “And here I thought you’d finally pay me back for all the peanut butter sandwiches I sacrificed every recess.” he complained under his breath, smacking your backside with one of the pillows behind him. You giggled, sitting up as you watched your best friend pursed his lips at you.

“You wish, Na Jaemin. That’s never going to happen, that I can assure.” you giggled, shaking your head as you snatched the pillow from his hands to lay it on top of your lap. “Then what did you get me?” he asked, a confused frown forming on his lips, leaning his head to the side in curiosity. You smiled simply at him, “close your eyes, first.”

“Why?” he eyed you suspiciously, watching as your right arm reached for something inside the pocket of the peach coloured hoodie you were wearing. “I swear if you get me one of those strawberry infused tea that the 6 year old girl from across the street constantly forces innocent bystanders to buy, I’m going to-”

You let out an incredulous scoff, putting your hand on your chest with an offended frown. “Preposterous!” You gasped dramatically. “I would never make my best friend suffer by buying him a disgusting drink made by a 6 year old who eats play doh for a living!” you exclaimed with an offended tone.

Jaemin gave you an incredulous look, leaning back on the bed with his arms supporting him as he raised a brow a you. “You literally made me try her special oreo, milo, peanut butter and jam, ‘expresso’ a few weeks ago.” he said, wiggling his index and middle fingers when he said ‘expresso’.

You gave him an innocent dorky grin in response, “no regrets.” You hissed with a smug smile. Jaemin rolled his eyes at you, “I’m serious, I’m actually concerned. Knowing you, you probably hired some weird psychic witch to make a voodoo doll of me.” he frowned jokingly. Actually, he was half joking considering you were weird enough to convince him that you were secretly a witch from another dimension.

You giggled, putting the back of your hand on the top of your head as you wailed out dramatically like those people in theaters and soap operas. “Oh dear God, Na Jaemin has no faith in his oh-so-amazing best friend! What have their friendship become!” you cried out, scrunching your face as you pretended to cry in front of him, causing Jaemin to reach his hand out to pinch your cheek gingerly.

“I don’t think ‘amazing’ is a word I would use to describe this whole experience of being your friend since diapers.”

Now it was your turn to purse your lips, causing Jaemin to send you a charming wink, rolling your eyes in response. “Is that so? I think it’s time to finally terminate our friendship.” you sniffled, wiping an invisible tear as Jaemin let out a laugh your statement. “I’m kidding, Y/n.” he cooed in a high pitched voice, putting both his palms against you cheek and squishing them together to pucker your lips.

He snickered as you smacked his hands away from your face, “get your hands off of my face, you peasant.” you giggled before sitting up straight and giving him a serious look. “Now. Close your eyes!” you frowned, booping his nose jokingly. Jaemin raised his brow at you, pushing your finger away from the tip of his nose. “Fine,” he sighed, closing his eyes slowly.

He felt you tug down the hood of the jacket he was wearing over his head, feeling your palm pat against the fabric against his eyelids .”No peeking, Jaemin!” you exclaimed eagerly, your hands moving to pull his hands out from behind him. He rolled his eyes with a small chuckle when he felt your fingers pry his own open to spread out his palms.

“Did you get me those old squishy stress balls you keep gazing at whenever we go to the mall?” he asked with a soft giggle when he feels you place something small and smooth in his palm. “I’m too broke for that, you know that, Jaemin. Now, open your eyes!” you giggled, he felt the bed sink, signalling you probably moved to lay down.

Jaemin placed the object in his hands in his left hand, his right moving to pull the hood over to the back of his head as he slowly opened his eyes and looks down at what you have placed in his palm. His brows furrowed in confusion at the grey object you had placed in his palm, his head shooting up to look at the cheeky grin displayed on your face.

In his palms was a small pebble.

A fucking pebble.

He squinted his eyes at you to see if you were joking, but you just kept giving him the same cheeky grin. You weren’t joking in the slightest. You two stared at each other for the next 15 seconds. Your eyes wide as if daring him to speak and complain while his dared yours to explain what level of degeneracy your weirdness has come to.

Jaemin clicked his tongue at you.

“You got me a rock?” he deadpanned after a pregnant pause. You were on your stomach, gazing up at him with your face in your palms with a chesire grin spread across your face. “First of all, it’s a pebble. Second, it’s not just a pebble, it’s a pebble with-” Jaemin watched you lean over to flip the pebble in his hands around.

“A picture of Doraemon!” you exclaimed cheerfully. Jaemin stared at the small cheap sticker of Doraemon winking at him, then stared back at you with a blank expression. He bit his lip to keep himself from bursting out laughing, watching you bite back your own laughs. “You got to be joking me. Please tell me you’re joking,” Jaemin threw his head back laughing, placing the pebble on his bedsheets in front of him as he applauded and laughed at the same time.

You shook your head as you wheezed, laughing loudly as you smacked your fists against the pillow you were laying on. “Oh you WISH I was joking. Hell no, dude, you’re gonna keep a rock as a momento of my iconic existence.” you shook your head, wiping the tears from your eyes as Jaemin stared at you incredulously.

“What the hell am I suppose to do with a rock? Also what’s with the sticker? It looks like some weird omen.” Jaemin snickered, he really couldn’t stop laughing at how stupid this situation looks. You shrugged innocently, giving him a teasing grin. “The sticker adds flavor to the pebble. I couldn’t find any permanent markers to decorate it with.” you shrugged, causing Jaemin to bawl out laughing, throwing his head back.

“Remind me why I’m still friends with you?” he chuckled. You puckered up your lips gingerly, “because you just married me.” you winked, causing Jaemin to furrow his brows in confusion. “Have you been eating to many candies again, y/n?” he asked, placing the back of his palm against your forehead. You huffed, slapping his hand away, eliciting soft giggles from your best friend.

“You accepted my gift, that means we’re married!”

“How so? What kind of weird nonsense have you discovered this time?”

“Hush, this is actually a really cute fact.”

Jaemin sighed, nodding his head as he gestured you to continue on. You grinned gingerly, “Did you know that when penguins propose to their mates, they give their mates a pebble? Like some sort of wedding ring!”

There was a pregnant pause. Jaemin just giving you an incredulous smile, his cheeks flushed pink as he wonders how adorable this moment could possibly get. “Is this your way of saying you want to marry me or is this your way of calling me short?” Jaemin teased, his sweet wide smile never leaving his face as he leaned over towards you.

You raised your brows in surprise, a bright pink tint appearing on the soft skin of your cheeks. “Welp, this clearly backfired.” you muttered under your breath, causing Jaemin to let out an amused laugh. “What were you even trying to do here?” he exclaimed, stretching his arm out to gingerly pinch both of your pink cheeks as you whined out in embarrassment.

“I just want to pull a little harmless prank to make you blush. I clearly didn’t think this through.” you said, gripping his wrist as you try to pry his hands off of your cheeks. Jaemin giggled, his heart fluttering. “You’re getting weirder day by day.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head profusely at you.

“Shut up, I thought it was cute and funny at the same time.”

“Would you marry me though?”

“What?”

Jaemin gulped, shaking his head when he realised he said that out loud. “Would you marry me though if we had the chance?” he asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with a bashful smile. You leaned your head to the side, pondering for a small moment, attempting to ignore the heat rushing through your cheeks. “Would you?” you mused, chuckling at your best friend who just gave you a dopey grin.

Jaemin shrugged, “I don’t see why not. It’s better than marrying someone you met because of a stupid birthmark.” he smiled innocently. You rolled your eyes at this. “Your resentment towards the soulmate system will always be an unattractive point. I hate to be the person who blows a candle, only to have the same lame soulmate mark as you.” you joked, causing Jaemin to smack you with the pillow beside him.

“Rude!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “What if you were that unfortunate soul?” he asked with a giggle, causing you to frown. “Well screw that, I’ll peel the damn mark off of my skin.” you shot back, giggling in between words as Jaemin pouted at your words, pursing his lips in response. “Wouldn’t that be ironic, though? We’ve been friends since diapers, I’d be damned if I have to spend the rest of my life with you.” you commented.

Jaemin stopped laughing, leaning back on his arms as he took a moment to think about it. “But wouldn’t it be better that way though? Like, you wouldn’t have to go through that awkward introduction phase when we could just move on to the honeymoon phase.”

You scoffed. “I’d rather barf in my cereal.”

You let out a loud ‘oof’ when Jaemin tackled you against the sheets to smack you with his pillow repeatedly.

Jaemin chuckled to himself at the memory, smiling sadly at how ironic yet cliche this whole ordeal was. He walked over to his desk, picking up the pebble from the space in between his books and stationary. He tossed the pebble in the air, catching it in his other hand. His eyes pausing at the old Doraemon sticker on the pebble, half of Doraemon’s face had disappeared. (Jaemin’s weird desires to peel things off had kicked it when he was tossing around the pebble in boredom)

His thumb glazed over the sticker, causing it to fall off of the pebble and to the carpet floor. “Shit!” Jaemin cursed, kneeling down to find the Doraemon sticker. ‘Y/N’s gonna kill me,’ he thought to himself with a chuckle as he picked up the sticker, it took him a few seconds for him to realize that you two weren’t friends anymore. ‘Right, she probably doesn’t care about some stupid sticker anymore.’ he frowned, sighing heavily.

He gently placed the sticker back on the pebble despite the fact that it couldn’t stick anymore, placing the pebble back on his desk as he stood back up on his feet, He looks back down when he felt his wallet slip out of the pocket of his jacket when he stood up. His heavy heart weighing down on him when he looks down at his wallet.

His wallet had fallen open, revealing the photo of you two when you were still kids slipped into the transparent pocket of his wallet. Jaemin picked up his wallet in between his fingers, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as he collapsed back on the mattress of his bed. He tucked his arm under his head as he turned over to his side, never keeping his eyes off of the picture in his wallet.

The picture was slightly blurry. Baby Jaemin was attacking you with his latest transformers action figure, his lips puckered to make dramatic sound effects. Baby you had your face scrunched in laughter, a hand outstretched to shove him away by his shoulder. You had a barbie doll in your free hand, protecting your barbie from his transformers figure.

Baby Jaemin’s cap was floating in mid air, having been knocked off of his head when you threw your doll’s hairbrush at the perfect moment. The one who took the picture was your grandmother, who truly believed that you two were soulmates since the dawn of time. Jaemin’s frown deepened at the thought of your beloved grandma. How she would use any given time to take at least one picture of the two of you together. How she would walk in the middle of your play time to five you two some cookies or treats she made.

“Grandma, what’s a soulmate?” you asked in the middle of your play date with Jaemin. Your grandma smiled simply, sighing as she leaned her cheek against her palm. “Soulmate, huh?” she repeated as Jaemin sat beside you in front of her with a cookie in his between hands. “A soulmate is like..” your grandmother paused, eyeing the two of you as you sat side by side with cookies in your hands as you obediently listened to your grandmother’s words.

“To me, a soulmate is like a best friend. It’s the one person who knows you better than anyone else.” she explained briefly. “More than your own family?” Jaemin asked, chewing in between words, causing your grandma to chuckle. “Almost more than your own family,” she winked, grabbing a cookie of her own out of the container filled with chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s also someone who makes you a better person in life, because most of the times, they inspire you to be a better person. A soulmate is someone you can carry with you forever.”

“Forever? Wouldn’t they get bored?” You asked with an innocent tilt of your head. Your grandmother smiled briefly, “well, would you get bored of playing with Jaemin, Y/n?” she asked, causing the both of you to look at each other. You shook your head with a bright smile, “never! Jaemin is my best friend!” you exclaimed, causing Jaemin to let out a loud cheer. “And y/n is mine!” he exclaimed, wrapping his tiny arms around your figure as he gingerly pressed his cheek against yours, causing you to giggle.

“That’s good. Though, a soulmate will always support you and believe in you. They will stay by your side no matter what. They’ll always be there to make you smile.” your grandmother explained. “Does that mean a soulmate is someone who can make you happy all the time?” y/n asked, eliciting a soft chuckle from your grandma who just nodded simply.

“Exactly my dear!” she exclaimed. “Gross,” Jaemin teased, scrunching his face in disgust at the thought. Your grandma chuckled, leaning down to fondly ruffle Jaemin’s hair. “Jae, you shouldn’t say things like that. I’m sure you’ll understand and change your mind when you’re older and more mature.” she spoke gently, making Jaemin scoff lightly, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“No I won’t! Just you watch, Grandma! I’m not going to have a soulmate when I grow up!” he exclaimed with a huff. You giggled as you hugged your barbie doll to your chest, “well I do! It sounds like a forever friend!”

Jaemin raised a brow at you, tilting his head in confusion. “A forever friend?” he asked. You nodded eagerly, pulling your barbie doll away from your chest to play with it’s bendable arms as you continued to explain. “A friend that’s going to be with you forever and ever like Mr. Snuggles!” you exclaimed, pointing at the big teddy bear leaning against Jaemin’s power ranger action figure.

“I wish I could meet my soulmate now!” you exclaimed with a bright giggle. “I’m sure they’ll be the nicest person ever!”

At this point, Jaemin couldn’t hold back his tears. His heart aching like never before, but this time he didn’t bother grabbing the bottle of pain killers near him. He puts his wallet on his nightstand as he sniffled, his heart overwhelmed with different emotions all at one. Guilt. Anger. Regret.

Jaemin furiously wiped the tears from his face, his frustration growing by the second. “Fuck!” he cried out, sobs coming out of his throat as tears continuously cascade down his cheeks. He turned over to his stomach, burying his face in the soft fabric to muffle his cries and sobs.

They say karma hits back at the best of times. It was no different with Na Jaemin. Like what your grandma had said, he’d change his mind of his perception of this whole soulmate system. There was no point in fighting against fate. How could he be so selfish as to let the people he cared about get hurt? How could he be so foolish to take your kindness for granted?

Jaemin’s eyes screw shut tightly, trying to stop the flashbacks going through his head. He knew he couldn’t stop the nostalgic memories from flooding through his mind. After all, you two shared every moment of your lives with each other that it would be preposterous for the world to not make you two soulmates. This is what he wanted right? He wanted you to go away.

Now, he just wanted his best friend back. He wanted you to give him cookies again every week. He wanted you to sit next to him during every class you had together and make weird jokes or express abstract opinions of a certain topic. He missed those times when you two would go to the arcade to get the biggest stuffed animal in all the crane games you could find and play some Mario Kart afterwards.

He missed how you would sneakily wear his hoodie in the middle of class because you ‘were cold’ or ‘forgot to bring yours’. He missed blasting music loudly from his car radio as he drives you both to school, headbanging aggressively to the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio. The way you would comfort him by buying him desserts or cookies from the nearest bakery whenever he received a scolding from Coach or the former Team Captain.

Jaemin paused, remembering your bright smile when you stood in front of Renjun. That genuine smile you always used whenever he was in your line of vision. He sighed at the vivid memory, He moved so he was laying on his back, sniffling back his tears as his mind spun even more as he couldn’t help but think that maybe Donghyuck was right.

Whenever he was a jerk, Renjun was always there to comfort you. He was always there to help you whenever you were on the brink of failing a certain subject while Jaemin would always ditch you for practice or to hang out with Jeno and Haechan. Maybe it would be better if Renjun was your soulmate instead of Jaemin.

He’ll make you way more happier than he ever could. Jaemin’s heart clenched against his chest at the thought of you being in a romantic relationship with someone else. Though, who was he to complain if you and Renjun were secretly into each other? He knew it was very unlikely for a someone to fall for someone else that’s not their soulmate, but it wasn’t completely impossible for one to do so.

All that you ever wanted was to have someone by your side for the rest of your life to make you smile when you’re at your worst. Jaemin couldn’t even do that back when he broke your music box. What was the point in asking you to forgive him now if you wouldn’t even look him in the eyes without giving him an expression equivalent to what an injured puppy would at their owner?

You deserved someone like Renjun.

Maybe Hyuck was right. You were cursed to be born with a soulmate like him. You were cursed to have the same stupid tattoo as he did on your wrist. You didn’t deserve to suffer that much emotional pain for such a long time for his sake. You didn’t deserve all the pain he put you through. And he knew he didn’t deserve to have you in his life.

Jaemin spent the rest of his day crying his eyes out. Finally letting out the pent up emotions that his actions had caused him, letting his heart scream out in pain as it tries to release the tension that came with longing for the feeling of holding your delicate heart in the palms of his hands. At that single moment, he never wished for anything so bad as he did when he wished he could start this whole soulmate ordeal over again.

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles @itlittlefangirl @cherrym4rk @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck @kingjvngins @aconeptun @chaeshii @lixseu @morks-watermelon @12am-musings @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived @wtfhaechan

Taglist is o p e n e d !

Do please inform me if you changed your username. Send me an ask, dm me or comment if you wanted to be added to the taglist!

#NCT-WRITERS #na jaemin #nct dream #jaemin x reader #nct dream jaemin x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct u x reader #nct dream na jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct x you #nct

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Note

Hey! Do you think you could write an avaxmc fic that’s today’s chapter (81) of mtfl but from mack’s pov? Like a rewrite, with more gayness and no boys? Maybe have mack see them at some point, or find them sleeping together the morning after? Idk it’s just an idea and ofc it’s ok if u don’t wanna do it, just thought i’d ask

i loved this idea anon, idk if its super gay but I tried writing it from what i think Mack would be like, i hope you enjoy tho ❤️❤️

(also ive been so busy this week, i hope to do some writing for star crossed lovers next week as well as some more requests💖)

taglist: @cloud9in @midnitesteph @kamilahsayeet2063 @dopeyouth @avalawrencefl @alleycat97 (i added people from my other ava fic and people who might like the fic)

The tales of the sister

Now playing as Mack

I know something has been going on between Emma and Ava since we’ve come back from Jenning’s lodge but I don’t know exactly what. I scrutinise Emma as she fluffs the pillows for the 100th time tonight before taking out her phone to check her makeup...again.

“Chill Emma, it’s only Ava” I add a tiny dose of teasing to my voice, while Emma’s cheeks begin dusting with a tiny bit of red on them before she pointedly looks away.

“Everything just has to be perfect,” her eyes scan the living before she moves the tv remote an inch to the left before placing her hands on her hips, satisfied.

“Why?” I raise an eyebrow at her, trying to get any crumb of information since Emma and Ava used to always leave me out of the big girl gossip.

Emma freezes for a split second before her eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation, “I don’t know, it just has to be.”

I nonchalantly shrug my shoulders and sit on the couch before grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into my mouth. Emma swats at my arm, “Mack! Don’t make a mess!”

“Whuh- iuts pouhpcourn” I retort, my mouth still filled with popcorn as Emma begins stress cleaning around me until the doorbell suddenly rings and she stands up straight so quickly before plastering a wide smile on her face. Just before she opens the door, she throws a warning look at me over her shoulder.

“Ava!” Ava squeals and tackles Emma into a huge bear hug while Emma just giggles like a schoolgirl, yuck.

“Hey, hey, let me say hi to Ava.” I see Emma shooting daggers at me in my peripheral vision but I ignore her as I give Ava a quick hello hug before settling back into my seat on the couch. “So” I take another handful of popcorn but before I can throw it all into my mouth, Emma glares at me, her eyes wide and full of warning, so I roll my eyes at her and plop a couple into my mouth before giving her a melodramatic smile. “What’s on the agenda for girl’s night?”

Ava and Emma share a weird look before Ava speaks up, “how about 2 truths and a lie?”

“Yes, I’ll finally get to learn your secrets.” I conspicuously rub my hands together, excitement running through my body.

“Yeah, now that we can trust you not to be a total blabbermouth,” Emma taunts.

“Hey I wasn’t that bad,” I throw my hands up defensively as Ava laughs.

“Yes you were.” Ava gestures over to Emma,” remember when Emma and I were freshmans and you came with your dad to pick Emma up from school and you literally screamed out that I had a crush on the science teacher.”

“Wait what was his name again?” Emma and Ava go silent as they try and remember before Ava slaps her thigh before shouting, “Mr Durrant!”

“Oh my god yeahhhhh,” Emma shakes her head as she and Ava laugh together but when they catch each other’s gaze, their laughter slowly fades and is replaced with an intense stare. Ava deftly glances at Emma’s lips before I awkwardly cough gaining the attention of the two girls again.

“So, 2 truths and a lie? I’ll go first. I’ve been arrested. I used to have an imaginary friend and I have a belly piercing.”

Ava and Emma share a conspirutual look before simultaneously saying, “belly piercing.”

“Come on Mack, you really think I forgot about your imaginary friend Lily? You used to always talk to her and have tea parties with her.”

I grumble and cross my arms together, “whatever someone else go next.”

“I’ll go.” Ava calls out. She presses her lips together in a thin line deep in thought before making an, “ah-ha” sound. “I’ve never broken a bone, i’ve been in a car crash and I have a secret cinder account.”

I reflect on Ava’s answers for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. “Definitely the broken bones. Did you think I wouldn’t remember the nasty fall you took in cheer your freshman year?”

Emma still in deep contemplation, quietly gazes at Ava. Her eyes roam her facial features before she squeaks out, “cinder account.”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Ava lifts her forefinger, tapping it on her nose, “we have a winner. To be honest I thought about making one but I chickened out at the last minute.”

“What? Why would you even consider making an account, you’re gorgeous. I would’ve thought you would have girls lining up around the block?

“Well even though we didn’t work out, I’m still grateful for the time I had with Bayla. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone because for a long time I felt like I was.” She flickers her gaze at Emma, her eyes softening, “And thanks to her she helped me realise that I have my eye on someone else.”

Emma gives Ava a small smile, hmmm so maybe something did happen between them and they haven’t told me before they keep giving each other flirty looks all night. Just to mess with them a little I break the moment between them by throwing a piece of popcorn at Emma, “I guess it’s your turn.”

“Okay fine. I’ve seen two boys from our school topless, I’ve dyed my hair blue and” she looks over at Ava, her eyes full of longing. “I kissed a girl.”

I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. THEY KISSED.

I play off Emma’s statement cooly with a blank expression on my face, trying to hide my happiness for them both. I subtly look over at Ava who is so trying not to blush right now but is attempting (and failing) to suppress a smile. Cute.

“Emma I live with you, I know you haven’t dyed your hair blue!”

“You got me.”

“Now that you mention it you would look good with blue hair.”

After a lot of convincing, we finally managed to get Emma to agree to dye her hair blue.

“I have a box of dye under my bed. I'm going to go grab it.” I leave the two girls and begin inspecting the contents under my bed, looking for the dye. I triumphantly cheer to myself, like a loser, when I find the box and as I’m about to enter the bathroom, I see Ava leaning down and whispering into Emma’s ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I can see Emma’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, her eyes glistening with desire? Excitement? I don’t know but I can tell Emma’s slightly nervous because she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Emma’s about to respond to Ava before her eyes catch mine in the mirror, “Mack!” her voice startled, “we didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah I figured.” Emma looks away abashed while Ava awkwardly coughs before reaching out and plucking the dye from her hands.

We begin mixing the dye together with the bleach and then Ava begins parting Emma’s hair, her fingers slowly tangling in Emma’s hair, before giving it a playful tug. Yuck they’re indirectly not so indirectly flirting in front of me. Right in front of my metaphorical salad!

“Do you guys think I’ll look different after I dye my hair?” Emma asks as Ava begins painting on the dye with her fingers.

“How do you want to look?” She raises an eyebrow at Emma.

“Hot.”

Ava snorts, “please, like you need a boost in that department.”

“Hey everyone could use a little hotness, well everyone except you because you’re practically a goddess.”

Ava’s grin widens and she takes in Emma’s admission. “It’s true. I guess it’s a cheer captain thing.” I clamp my mouth shut, trying so hard not to say anything to ruin this moment, hoping that they’ll forget about my existence. And maybe it works a little too well because Emma and Ava flirt the rest of the time we’re dying her hair and it takes everything in me not to scream and tell them to stop being so weird.

“Wow you look sexy,” Ava beams at Emma as she brushes through her now blue hair, stars practically glistening in her eyes.

“Thanks, I guess I’m catching up to you in the hotness department.”

Ava growls, (weird), her voice a whisper, “mmm. I think you’ve definitely surpassed me.”

I think I barfed a little in my mouth when I finally have had enough and I throw my hands up in the air, “I’m going to bed!” I turn back and teasingly wiggle my eyebrows at the girls, “make sure to behave yourselves.”

I crash into my bed but an hour later I hear Emma’s bedroom door shut and a flurry of giggles coming from her room. I guess they’re now making out? Gross. Right where I can hear them. I fold my pillow over my ear, trying to drown the sound of the laughs, and sound of kissing and sucking? I don’t know and I sure as hell don’t want to find out. Eventually I doze off and when I wake up the next morning I creep up to Emma’s room to see if she’s awake and can make me breakfast. But when I open the door, I see her half naked body, tangled up with a half-naked Ava as they peacefully sleep in each other’s embrace. I quickly but quietly close the door and flop back into my bed, glad that my older sister is getting some but sad because I don’t know when I’m going to get my pancakes now.

#playchoices #my two first loves #mtfl ava #ava mtfl #ava x mc #ava lawrence #mackenzie price

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unlikelymilkshakedream · 4 years

Text

It was a typical Friday in riverdale, you woke up and were excited for the weekend because this week had literally tried you to no ends. Your homework had stacked up horribly, you hadn't hung out with your friends all week, much less your boyfriend, Sweet Pea.

As the bell rang signaling the end of the school day, you felt excited to go to the white wyrm and get drunk around you lr friends, however those hopes quickly died down as your teacher called you to stay after class.

"Y/n, before you go id like a word with you."

"And I'd like a magic pony, but so rarely do we get what we want." You sassed back. You wanted nothing more than to climb behind sweets on his motorcycle and drink until you couldn't see straight.

"Y/n, your currently failing this class, I'm sorry but you need to do better. I know you, you're a smart person and you can do great things. You need to try harder." Your teacher looked like he wanted to be nice, but you were not in the mood.

"Mr. Yelich, I am trying hard, but you don't exactly make it easy, assigning more work every class, on top of the other 8 classes I have with a job and a social life. It will get done I promise, I am trying very hard." You were more than anything exhausted. Your job had kept you up late and no matter, you still had to stay up even later doing homework.

As you left the school building, you knew all of your friends would be gone already, including pea, who you told to not wait for. Instead you decided to catch a ride with your fellow serpent, Jessica.

When you got to the wyrm, you walked in and immediately ordered a shot of fireball. Surrounded by the crowded bar, no less. Tonight you decided you were going all in, blackout or back out, and you never backed out. As you took your fifth shot, you heard a voice behind you.

"Damn, like they're trying to get drunk, you know its just a stunt to get some dick, no wonder sweet pea hasn't talked to them all week." You turned around to see some beach blonde bitch with a posey of girls looking right at you. You sighed annoyedly.

"Now I know you weren't talking to me because one, who the fuck are you, two if I wanted dick I could get it sober unlike you bimbo bitches and three, what the hell do i care if I see sweet pea? I'm not his tender and he ain't my protector. So go find some other dumbass to lay into to make you feel better about your pathetic life. Thank you."

Apparently, the girls couldn't take it as well as the could dish it and instead jumped you in the middle of the bar. Since you were a little intoxicated it wasn't as easy as it would have been, however that didn't stop the undefeated Y/N Y/L/N. You grabbed the blonde by her hair after she suckered you in the rib and kneed her nose.

The girl next to the blonde grabbed you and layed a blow to your face while the third and final girl kicked you in the back. You went after the third girl, grabbing her arm and breaking her nose with your fist, while the other two punched your back and arms. She stumbled backwards and you turned to the other girls.

The blonde punched you in your nose, causing blood to drip onto the floor. The second girl layed three nice punches in your stomach. At this point your fight had gotten the attention of majority of the bar.

Just as you had knocked the brunette to the ground, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and hoist you off of the ground, separating you from kicking the others asses.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" Sweet pea asked as he set you down. Tall boy came over at the same time.

"What the hell is going on here? Brooke, Sam?" Both girls got up with blood running from their faces and looked at the ground. "Y/n?" Tall boy turned to you.

"Nothing, if a bitch wants to talk shit, she better be ready to back it up." You say spitting blood on the floor.

"Y/n, you can't fight among serpents. You know the rules, if I catch you one more time, your suspended." Tall boy pointed a sharp finger in your face.

As he walked away, sweet pea grabbed your arm and turned you towards him. "Y/n, why did you do that?" You slapped his hand away.

"Fuck off sweet pea, I don't need your protection, I can handle myself. I'm your girlfriend, not some kid you need to take care of." You yelled in his face, followed by a shot of whiskey and then you stormed out of the bar. Sweet pea was stunned, you never yelled at him, much less in front of people.

As you left the bar slinging your jacket over your shoulders, you heard pea following you. "Hey, what the hell was that in there? Huh, don't you ever talk to me like that again." You turned to him, anger rushing through your veins.

"Why, because it makes you look weak? Sweet pea, you always talk to me like that and im fucking tired of it. I'm a serpent just like you. I'm your girlfriend, okay? You're not my guardian angel, and I don't need protection. Every other serpent sees me as your girlfriend and its bullshit!" You were screaming at him in front of everyone in the parking lot, not caring anymore and tired of his shit.

"Y/n, I never once tried to be your guardian angel. And if I want to help you who the fuck are you to say no?" Your laugh was filled with anger.

"Oh don't fucking kid yourself sweet pea. You want a girl you can make a house wife, you got the wrong fucking one. If you think i need your help you can walk in the other direction and never look back. Go fuck yourself." You spat as you turned away from him and got glances from other serpents who were in the parking lot.

"Y/n, you're fucking scum!" He shouted at you. You didn't care however, you just continued storming off. You had hoped tonight you could let loose and let the worries die away. But as tears streamed down your face as you walked into the dark, you couldn't help but hate how he didn't see your pain and stress.

He only cared how he looked and not how you were feeling. He didn't care about everything that had happened that week, he only wanted to look tough, like you were nothing more than a girl he could easily replace. But oh, was that the farthest thing from the truth there could be.

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you promised yourself, never to let anyone control you or make you feel this way again. You deserved someone better, someone who knew not to fuck with you, and you would be damned if you ever let anyone step on your fire again.

A/n: hi, so I tried my best to write this in a way that anyone could read, I hope I did a good job! I hope you like it and to anyone who feels like they aren't taken seriously, I just want you to know that I believe in you, and don't ever let anyone tell you what to do. You are amazing and deserve to show it! I love you all! Thank you for the love on some of my recent works <333

#sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea angst #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #south side serpents #southside serpents

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 Day 8

Abandoned | Isolation

Ao3

Warnings: Depression, Panic Attacks, Claustrophobia, blink and you'll miss it Suicidal Thoughts.

Dedicated to @ckbookish! Hope you don't mind me tagging you 👉👈

-o-o-o-o-

"That's great, Dami! I'm happy for you."

Dick held the phone between his ear and shoulder, listening to Damian ramble on about an advanced theater class he got into because the teacher felt the current intermediate class he was in was wasting his potential. He carefully scrubbed the sides of the bowl he had just finished eating about five servings of pudding out of and set it off to the side. He wiped his hands then leaned against the counter, smiling.

"Thank you, Richard," Damian said. His voice was just as stiff and careful as it always was, but Dick could hear the excitement and gratitude sprinkled in there. The kid was opening up. Expressing himself more and more every day in ways the place he came from had never allowed him to. Dick couldn't remember the last time Damian genuinely threatened anyone with violence, let alone threatened Tim. In fact, last he heard, Tim and Damian were going to go to the Gotham Zoo together next weekend. There was no real reason for them to. It was just to attempt at hanging out and Dick couldn't be more proud.

"When will you be switching to the new class?" Dick asked. While he did, he began to migrate from the kitchen counter towards his bedroom door, careful to not trip on anything that was laying on the floor. Not for the first time this day, week, month, or year, Dick made a mental note to finally deep clean the place. "Like, is this a tomorrow thing or…?"

"At the end of the term, actually," Damian answered, his voice dropping ever so slightly. Dick hummed in sympathy. He sounded very excited about it, it must be agonizing for him to find out he needed to wait another few months for the first term to come to a close.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have fun being the best in your current class until then," Dick joked, finally reaching the door to his bedroom and placing his hand on the door handle. Damian scoffed over the phone.

"I am not the best, unfortunately." Damian didn't sound that torn up about it, which was good. Admitting someone was better than you was good character growth. It proved that Damian was letting himself start from the bottom of something instead of immediately being at the top. "There is another girl, her name is Abigail. She has been taking classes since she was a toddler because her mother runs a local theater group."

"So she's as good at theater and you are with a sword," Dick confirmed and Damian hummed.

Dick opened his door, mentally planning out the least tedious way to get undressed, in bed, and asleep as quickly as possible. First he needed to end the phone call, as much as he didn't want to. He started a new job tomorrow, so he needed to be rested. There was a swimming pool downtown that was looking for an assistant coach for the children's gymnastics classes they held there. Dick took up the job the moment he saw it. Or well, the moment he was no longer swinging past it as Nightwing and was back in civilian clothes. There was a good chance that he could work his way up to being a head instructor with his own classes, considering the woman who hired him didn't really seem the type to enjoy children very much. Dick gave it two months tops before she began to just not show up, making it so he was promoted.

"I suppose so," Damian said, "she won't be moving up with me however. She has… friends in the lower class that she doesn't want to-"

Dick missed out on the rest, because the moment he stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his feet were knocked out from under him and his phone flung from his hand. Decades of experience made it so he was immediately able to go from zero to a hundred, allowing him to scramble up from the floor and throw a punch at the closest shadow like clockwork.

His fists met air. With wide eyes, he spun around his room, heart in his throat as he tried to figure out what had shoved him to the floor.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All he could see was his messy room, his unmade bed, his open closet, and his closed window.

Suddenly, Dick heard a noise sound across his room from where he threw his phone. Dick rushed across his room and searched for his phone like he had been jolted by a bolt of electricity. He hated how confused and worried Damian's muffled demands sounded.

"Richard! What happened?!"

There! Dick bent down and reached out his hand to grab the phone-

And then his hand went through the phone.

Dick stared down at his empty hand and the phone that sat unmoving on the ground, everything going deathly still as he tried to… process what happened. If it was actually real.

Okay. His nerves were just shot. He tried again, this time a little more slower and careful. He watched with disbelieving eyes as his hand once again just… went through the phone. It just laid there, undisturbed, like Dick wasn't… even there.

Damian's voice rose in volume and Dick kneeled down, noting now how he was fully grounded on the floor; his shirts and other various objects around him phased through him like holograms. Okay, okay so something was definitely wrong. "Damian?" Dick asked, but Damian didn't say anything, just continued to shout for Dick to answer.

"Damian!" Dick yelled louder, but Damian didn't say anything that counted as a reply.

"Richard, if you don't answer me, I will fetch father!"

"Bruce might be a good idea there, Dami," Dick breathed, falling back onto his rear end and watching how he simply went through everything. He brought his hand back to his phone and purposely stuck it through, his fingernail soundlessly tapped the hidden floor beneath.

Curious, Dick knocked on the wood, and when no noise reached his ears he hit it harder.

Nothing. He can't touch anything and apparently he couldn't be heard.

And suddenly, Dick was filled with the crippling realization that he had… no idea what to do now. He just sat there, listening to Damian panic until he eventually hung up to fetch Bruce. Dick sat there, running his fingers through everything he couldn't touch around him until he knew the entire space around him by heart. Dick sat there, and it took him… awhile to work up the energy to stand up and figure this out. But when he did, he forced himself to not let the confusion, horror, and fear stop him. He walked around the room first, looking for something that must have made him like this. There were no sigils that he could see, and if one was hidden under the things he had left on the floor, he wouldn't know because no matter how hard he focused or how many times he tried, he couldn't get anything to move. He went to sit down on his bed to think this through, but then his hand went straight through the mattress and he barely caught himself in time to avoid landing on his rear.

Thoroughly freaked out now, he ran through his dresser, heart pounding to the upbeat rhythm of his phone as Bruce began to call him. Dick didn't pick up the phone, he knew he wouldn't be able to.

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't. Touch. Anything. His feet would hit the ground and have no volume. His hands would slap against the wall but nothing would sound. He tried not to panic, but when he went to go out his door, it didn't move. He tugged on the door handle. It didn’t budge. Not a single millimeter.

And okay. Okay he was beginning to panic now. He sprinted to the window and slammed his elbows against it, but it was like the glass was replaced with a transparent sheet of solid steel.

Was this some sort of hallucination? Had whatever knocked him down drugged him somehow? Did he hit his head?

He was hyperventilating—this he knew for sure but suddenly he didn't know how to stop it—and without thinking he ran back to his door, banging his silent fists against the wood and tugging on the frozen in place handle.

Oh gods. This was really happening wasn't it? Somehow, he had found himself unable to move anything. Unable to go anywhere. Unable to- to-

His knees gave out, causing him to slide down against the door and press his forehead against the unmovable force before him. He couldn't- he couldn't breathe. Somewhere, at the back of his head, a voice told him that he could breathe. He could take breaths right now and calm down. He could count five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste. He could calm down and think rationally and explore his situation a bit more calmly. But the moment he opened his eyes after not realizing he had them closed in the first place and saw his leg phasing through his empty trash can he knew he couldn't go anywhere from there without having a full blown mental breakdown.

So he closed his eyes, tried making noise on the door once again, and tried to keep his breakdown to a minimum.

Just hyperventilating. Just fading.

"Help!" He shouted before he could really consider what good that would do. He was at the top floor of his building and the neighbors across from him weren't home until early in the morning thanks to the graveyard shift. No one will hear him… even if he could be heard.

His phone began to ring again and Dick stuck his fist into his mouth and bit down on his knuckles to keep from screaming.

He sat there—trying and failing to breathe, trying and failing to not cry—and continued to sit there until eventually, he found himself leaning against the door with half lidded and tearful eyes, staring at how his body continued to not touch a single thing.

He let his eyes fall shut one final time and let the stress and anxiety and confusion whisk him away into a very troubled slumber.

-o-o-o-o-

When he woke up he was immediately made aware that his current situation was, in fact, not a nightmare.

And so much worse than what he could even predict.

He awoke to him falling backwards, a crick in his neck and spine suddenly becoming undone as the door he was leaning against suddenly opened, hitting his head with a disquietingly silent bonk on the floor of his living room. For a hopeful, blissful moment he thought whatever happened before he passed the fuck out was all fake and he had just imagined the entire thing, but then he opened his eyes and lifted his head…

Just to see a pair of legs sticking out from the middle of his intangible chest.

His breath hitched, his eyes flicking up to see a worried Bruce literally standing inside of him. The threat of hyperventilating once again became a very real thing as Bruce stepped past him, into the room, and started calling his name.

"Bruce!" Dick shouted, scrambling up from the floor and running back into the room that had previously been his impenetrable prison. He instinctively tried to grab his shoulder, but ended up flinching back violently when his hand simply went through Bruce. He couldn't feel Bruce at all. None of the course fibers of his winter coat brushed against his touch receptors. "Bruce! I'm here!" He tried again, but surprise surprise, it didn't work.

"Is he there?" A new voice said, and Dick just managed to turn around in time to watch Damian walk into the room with wrinkles between his brow and bags under his eyes, shining black against his olive skin. Dick jumped away from Damian's path as he approached their father and watched with a frown as Bruce bent down and picked up his discarded phone.

Then, Dick's phone suddenly began to ring, causing Bruce to scowl. Frightened, confused, and curious, Dick slowly approached to read his phone's screen.

It was close to 6am. Bruce must have driven here as quickly as he could after Damian probably took a few hours to panic to himself and work up the courage to tell Bruce that he thought something was wrong. Though, Dick didn't ponder over why they were here so early for very long. The number calling belonged to his new boss.

He was supposed to be at work thirty minutes ago.

"Shit," Dick breathed, stepping back as Bruce clicked the answer button on the phone and held it to his ear.

Immediately, there was the sound of the lead coach’s nasally voice. Coach Shah. Short, lean, toned, full of freckles, and rocking curly red hair. The woman who was definitely a phenomenal gymnast, but probably shouldn't be allowed to work closely with kids with her grumpy attitude. She didn't sound entirely upset from the muffled tones on the other side of the speaker. Maybe she was saving the angry for later, letting the passive aggressiveness of her annoyance at him for being late to his first day of work steadily drip into her tone.

Bruce finally opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, but I'm not Mr Grayson."

Dick winced at the sound of her confused squawk. Bruce proceeded to explain that he was Dick's father, and that he couldn't find Dick anywhere. Bruce's frown slowly began to deepen as Coach Shah began to probably explain that Dick was her newest assistant and that she hadn't seen him. Shockingly, the phone call didn't end with Dick being immediately fired. Just with Bruce clicking the screen off and looking down at Damian with barely contained worry.

"You said he just shouted then stopped responding?" Bruce clarified.

Damian nodded, looking at the phone still in Bruce's hand like it had threatened him.

"Okay," Bruce sighed, brushing his free hand over his jaw. "Okay. Let's look for signs of struggle."

And this was how you could immediately tell that the Wayne family was nowhere close to normal. Normal families would call the police.

The batfamily searched on their own, then only called the police later to keep up the civilian facade.

Dick stepped slowly back, then flinched forward when his shoulders met the walls solidly. The feeling of any walls touching him while his feet stood through the things on the floor almost made him want to bend over and vomit. But thinking about vomiting also made him stress about what would happen then and what the sick would touch or if it would make any noise at all. It was repulsive and horrible to think about, so he found a tiny place of clear flooring that wasn't near any walls and folded his arms across his chest.

He watched Bruce and Damian comb through his room, looking for any signs that his disappearance wasn't on his own power. Dick hoped they found something. A reason for why he was a ghost in his own room.

A solid thirty minutes passed before Bruce deemed Dick's bedroom clean. Evidence wise. Not literally. Dick was pretty sure his room was in an even bigger mess than what it had been before. He jerked out of the way of Bruce as he walked ignorantly past Dick towards the living room. Damian followed along, dragging his feet.

It was then Dick noticed Damian's hand wrap around the door’s handle. Pure terror shot through Dick's veins, which gave him just enough courage to quickly dart forward and purposely run through Damian into his living room before he was locked back in there again. He didn't know he was gasping and choking back horrified sobs until he felt the first tear tickle down his cheek and off his chin.

And this all felt so real suddenly. Like not being able to touch Damian—one of the most important people in Dick's entire life—was what gave it the official stamp of reality.

Dick was a living, breathing, walking ghost.

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't be heard. He couldn't open doors or pick up phones or touch the shoulder of the man he had considered his father for longer than he had known his birth father.

It was all he could do to stand and force himself to breath—but did he even need to keep doing that?—and let his tears silently fall. He watched Bruce and Damian sift through the rest of his apartment and finish empty handed. It was hours later when Bruce suggested going back to the cave and checking Dick's phone for any possible clues. So, after Bruce hid a few sensors around to warn them if Dick "came back", they went to the front door while Dick made sure to stick as close as he could without going through them. He wiped under his eyes as they approached Bruce's car, his heart stuttering when he realized he didn't even know if he could even sit in the car with them without phasing through the seats. He might have to walk back to Gotham.

That would take… hours.

And oh God, would he starve? Would he be slowly forced to thirst to death because he couldn't touch any of the substances he needed to live?

Bruce opened the drivers door and Damian opened the passenger. Instead of thinking about the very real possibility that Dick probably had less than a few days left to live—if he was alive at all—Dick once again forced himself to go through Damian.

Somehow, against all odds, Dick was able to touch the car. Except, when his knees went through Damian's lap to touch the cushioned chair and his hands shot through Bruce's shoulder to support himself jumping into the back of the car, the normally well padded leather was stony and unrecognizable to his touch. It didn't give under the pressure of his weight or grip. It didn't sink around his touch. It remained like cement.

It felt like cement.

Dick curled up in the back seat, his heart jumping madly when both the drivers and passenger doors closed. He suddenly felt like a trapped animal. He had no will here. He didn't even bother to try the door handle of the back seat, because he knew it wouldn't go anywhere. The doors wouldn't open for him. The walls wouldn't bend. He brought his knees up to his chest as Bruce drove onto the road and as Damian turned on the radio.

And he… simply watched out the window and tried not to make too much noise that no one would hear anyway.

-o-o-o-o-

Getting out of the car door was more adrenaline inducing than standing toe to toe with Killer Croc. It was a good thing Dick was so flexible and had decades of experience with flipping his way through life. Thanks to that, he managed to jump out of the car just in the nick of time.

Seeing the manor like this hit differently. He was barely aware of Bruce and Damian walking past him towards the front doors until he saw Alfred open those aforementioned doors. Dick had to sprint to get inside, and he tried his best to not flinch as the door shut behind him. He didn't succeed.

Not that anybody saw.

"Master Dick?" Alfred asked, and more a heart stopping moment Dick almost thought Alfred was talking to him.

But then Bruce shook his head and began to shed his jacket.

"No sign of him. His apartment was locked and there was no sign of forced entry."

Alfred frowned and Damian shoved past them all, his body moving with less confidence than it normally did. Dick watched him go, desperately wanting nothing more than to race after him and gather him into the world's bestest hug, but Bruce was heading to the cave with Alfred trailing along. Dick had to help in whatever way he could to push Bruce into finding out what happened. Damian… could wait. He'll have to wait. It wasn't like Dick could do anything for him if he decided to follow after the clearly upset teen anyway.

"It's almost like he just vanished, Alfred," Bruce continued, his voice oddly wet. Dick's heart tied itself in a knot. "Into thin air."

"No one simply disappears into thin air," Alfred sniffed. "You will find him."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, sounding unsure but determined at the same time. They walked into the study and Dick carefully followed them both into the cave through the narrow passage of grandfather clock.

Bruce quickly got to work and Dick stood back, careful to not touch anything. Bruce started the search as he always did, by sifting through traffic cams around the scene of the crime. And since it was Dick's apartment, he also had access to the normal security measures Dick had installed.

Hours passed and Dick soon found himself sinking to sit on the floor of the cave, watching as Bruce found nothing after nothing after nothing.

Dick could relate. He certainly felt like nothing.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick couldn't thirst or starve. He found that out on day three of this entire mess, slinking around from open door to open door, doing nothing but breathing and existing. Well, existing to no one but himself. He hadn't even realized he wasn't starving or dehydrated until Tim, Cass, Jason, and Duke showed up three nights later for a quick family dinner. Dick was touched that Bruce called them, and even more touched that they all came. But, as much as he was touched, he was also jealous of the meal Alfred provided. Frustrated that he didn't exist enough to join.

Bruce filled them all in on what little they knew on the situation and then they all spent the night patrolling Blüdhaven for clues. Dick didn't get into the Batmobile in time to follow along, so he spent the entire night trapped in the cave with Alfred's silent company.

He spent the nights wandering the hallways and avoiding everything he could walk through. He'd walk and walk and walk until he'd sit down in the middle of the dining room floor, where the carpet was short and didn't stab him like the shaggy carpet of bedrooms did. Where the animals were least likely to unknowingly fall asleep inside of him.

On the fifth day, he thought Alfred the Cat was watching him. He cried for hours later when he found the cat was just watching a fly.

Days ticked on. Dick was reported missing to the police. Damian talked less and less, smiled less and less. The others went back to their lives with "keep me updated" being mumbled before they went.

Dick continued to not exist.

When the second week passed by, Dick found himself sneaking outside when Alfred went to get the mail. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because it was raining and he was wondering if he'd be able to feel that.

He didn't. It just went through him and he ended up being trapped in the cold air outside, exploring the wet grounds and not making a single splash, until night came and Damian let Titus and Ace out for a quick potty break.

By the time the third week came around, things really started to change. It seemed Bruce was constantly talking to people. The police, the Justice League, Dick's friends, everyone who were trying to track him down… and it killed Dick to stand back and watch, clutching his stomach as nothing turned up and Bruce kept coming up with nothing. Dick wished he could leave some sort of message. A way to tell Bruce that he was right there. Just invisible and silenced. But there.

Dick would love to tell Bruce that he was right there. But at this point, Dick really began to wonder if he was really there at all.

What if he was dead? Living people didn't go for three weeks without eating or drinking and remain alive. Alive people don't walk through furniture or get trapped simply by closed doors.

But he couldn't tell Bruce. Which was why when the third week came up and Bruce once again ran into a dead end, he wasn't really all surprised to watch Bruce angrily hurtle his phone across the room and collapse into his chair with his hands in his hair, dangerously close to ripping the fine strands from his scalp.

The longer Bruce sat there, the more Dick was sure Bruce had finally given up. Batman couldn't find him. It was the waiting game now. Sit and wait and hope.

Dick left the room shortly after, his mind racing, loneliness running like a poison through his veins. He went to find Damian, but when he found the kid cuddled in a giant beanbag in the library, Alfred the Cat on his shoulder watching him draw carefully, he knew there wouldn't be anything here to reassure him that he'll be found. He walked around Damian anyway, bending down to look at what he was drawing.

His heart clenched. It was a portrait of Dick. Damian was carefully working on the details of his top lip, shading each little bump and pore with incredible accuracy.

Dick didn't look more at it. He left the library and roamed the halls, looking for an open door that he can sneak into and get some alone time. Just to calm down. Just to reassure himself that there was no way his family would leave him like this forever.

That they haven't truly given up on him. That the whispered words of maybe he's dead and he's not coming back, is he haven't actually been said.

He finally found a room with an open door and he immediately squeezed inside. The room was smaller, which made his anxiety climb ever so slightly, but it was also close to empty with a clear enough space for him to sit down and meditate without touching and going through anything. The door must have been opened by Damian. The kid had been searching out silent places to be alone quite often recently, sometimes forcing Bruce to search the halls, calling his name loudly until Damian finally revealed himself.

Dick sat down and breathed.

Of course, it couldn't be so easy. His brain immediately recalled back to Bruce looking defeated. To Damian painstakingly crafting every detail of Dick's face with a pencil like he was worried he'd someday forget what Dick looked like. To Jason not having been over in way too long; reports in Blüdhaven of Red Hood being spotted on multiple occasions. To Tim who accidentally referred to Dick in the past tense a couple days ago and looked sick with himself the moment he realized what he said. To Cass who would somehow stroll the same halls as him when she's over until they pass by his bedroom door and she would stop and frown and walk away. To Duke who looked at his portraits Bruce had on the walls and look like he desperately wanted to understand something that he'd never actually be able to now.

They've all given up. He knew it was only a matter of time before there was an empty casket funeral.

He wondered if he could make that a reality. Death. He didn't need to eat or drink. What if he just… stopped breathing? What if he clawed out his own throat with his nails? What if the next time Alfred opened a window to air out an old, unused room on the highest floor he just jumped out?

Or would the world be so cruel as to keep him like this for the rest of eternity? Forced to watch as he's given up on, buried, and forgotten? He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not in name before body.

And not for the first time since Dick inexplicably became a ghost, he felt his throat choke on the beginnings of a sob.

He curled up a bit, trying to staunch it because he had quickly become annoyed with the sound of his own voice. Why could he still hear it when no one else could? It was awful. Like his words and noises we're all just in his head and he was only hearing what he thought he should hear.

He gasped wetly, wiping under his eyes and trying to stop this all from happening again. He had already cried enough these last few weeks. He couldn't keep crying every time he felt alone.

He bent in on himself further, his arms curling around his stomach in such a way that if he imagined hard enough they belonged to someone else and he was in another's calming embrace. It didn't work though. He knew he was alone. He couldn't pretend.

He was so deep in this attack of utter turmoil and unhappiness that he didn't notice approaching footsteps until he heard the sound of creaking door hinges followed quickly by a click of a door latch.

Dick looked up with blurry, panicked eyes.

The door. The door was closed.

"No," Dick breathed. "No no-" he scrambled to his feet, all the blood rushed from his head and combined with the terrible spike of horror to make him perfectly lightheaded as he stumbled to the door and wrapped his hands around the knob. It didn't budge. "NO!"

He spun around, barely aware of his already panting breaths and frantically searched the room for a hopefully open window.

The window was closed. He didn't know why he even looked.

"Fuck," he gasped, grabbing his chest as it constricted tightly. More tightly than what he had felt in a long time. It felt so painful that it was all he could do to turn and bang a closed fist on the door. He wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. "HELP!"

He didn't know why he was calling out. Hitting the door like he thought it might make noise.

No one would hear him.

"ALFRED!" Dick screamed. "BR-" he was forced to stop mid-word on that one thanks to a heaving gasp that curled dangerously in-between his ribcage. He swallowed. Or tried to. "BRUCE!"

He kicked the door. Covered one hand over his mouth and tried to calm down. Tried to not think about the solid walls and the solid door and how he was powerless to leave this room. Why did he come in here in the first place?!

He couldn't calm down. All he could think about was how screwed he was. How hopeless everything was. He kept his hand on his mouth as his legs eventually gave out. He brought his knees to his chin and laid on his side atop the carpeted floor, babbling cries and names and pleas until his throat was raw and everything woozy.

He didn't know how or when he finally passed out, only that he woke up to a still closed door and a still small room, and it took every ounce of his will power to not immediately cry again right then and there. He stayed curled up on the ground and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his stomach and tried to pretend that everything would work out. Eventually everything would be okay.

He was wrong.

It took two weeks for the door to open for Alfred's regular airing out of the rooms to reach the one he was trapped in.

By then, he didn't even know if he should bother to stand up and walk out.

Not when he was surely no longer alive. Not when he felt perfectly content just laying here being dead.

But the thought of that door closing again and him having no power over it eventually managed to force him stumbling to his wobbly feet and walking out.

He didn't know what to expect when he shuffled slowly deeper into the manor. More than a month has passed since his disappearance. Most people don't keep a whole lot of hope for a missing person to return after this long. By this time, people normally began to suggest funerals quietly between each other.

It didn't take long to find the family. What shocked him though was that everyone was together in the living room, even Alfred who must have finished opening certain doors and windows to refresh the stale air inside the rooms they belong to and walked back quicker than Dick. A movie was playing, some Pixar movie Dick hadn't seen before because of his busy lifestyle.

And for some reason, this hurt more than if he came in here to find them alone, mourning, depressed.

They're all watching a movie together. Bruce on the recliner, Damian squeezed between him and the arm of the recliner even though there was more room in other places. Jason sprawled over the three cushioned sofa, his legs resting over Duke, Cass, and Tim like a makeshift blanket. Alfred had his own recliner to himself, reading a book to himself but occasionally glancing up towards the screen. Steph was there too, but she had made herself comfortable on the floor with the entity of the living room's decorative pillows.

They're all watching a movie together.

Dick had been trying to get that to happen for months. And they're doing it now, when he's gone with no foreseeable way to get back.

Dick slowly sank to the floor and watched them poke each other and whisper quips to each other and laugh at the funny bits with each other.

Was this the life he was doomed to have for the rest of eternity? Chasing open doors and watching people move on from him? Do things simply in his memory?

If he had tears left to cry, he would have shed them.

Instead, he just sat there and watched.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's funeral was four months later. The gossip channels and media said they have finally given up. Dick thought they held on for longer than most.

He didn't attend his own funeral. He didn't want it to feel final. He didn't want the undeniable proof that they've stopped searching. He didn't want to see them cry for him.

So he walked the manor grounds opposite of the family graveyard. He kicked his feet as he walked, pretending that his footsteps carried weight on the grass and that he was solid enough to disturb the smallest pebbles on the stone pathway.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was hell. He didn't remember where he went, if he went anywhere, when Lex Luthor killed him, but maybe this was it. He didn't know what killed him or what happened to his body, but he was starting to become convinced that he really was simply a ghost, cursed to walk the world and watch people move on and live on without him.

Half a year ago, that would have settled horribly into his gut. Now? He was numb.

He continued to walk, to let his mind drift. Pretend he was alive for a little while longer before he returned to the manor and the services and dinners and receptions were over. Decide what to do now that his life was now officially over.

He sighed and ignored the feeling that he's just as trapped out here in the manor grounds as he was in that room all those months ago. Ho continued to roam.

Though, the sound of a humming voice had him stopping in his tracks.

No one should be over here. They all should be back at the funeral. Dick immediately focused on the noise, not even bothering to step carefully or approach cautiously. It wasn't like Dick could be seen or heard anyway. He just wanted to see who had snuck into these parts of the grounds while his literal funeral was going on. It was strange and horrible to think about, but come on? A little respect please? He hoped it wasn't some paparazzi. It meant that they'd somehow gotten through Bruce's security… which also meant that Bruce was more depressed about this than what Dick initially thought. He'd seen Bruce get low these past few months, but never low enough to sacrifice the safety of the people he provided shelter to.

Dick walked towards the grove of trees that the humming was coming from and frowned when he eventually saw the back of a person strolling through the controlled nature. The man was taller than Dick—which wasn't a difficult achievement—and was wearing a simple brown-orange hoodie with dark blue jeans. His hair was dirty blonde and styled up like someone glued a giant ball of cotton to his scalp. Dick didn't recognize him, which instantly set off alarm bells inside his head. The open house reception should be over but the rest of the services were all reserved for close family and friends of Dick's. But this man… he couldn't be someone that was invited.

Not for the first time, Dick felt the crippling weight of helplessness wash over him. This man could be dangerous, but Dick couldn't do a thing. He couldn't warn anyone.

He could just watch it happen.

Or… ignore it.

He shook his head and sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the same pair of sweats he'd been wearing since that fateful night half a year ago. He almost began to approach further, because even though he was helpless to change anything or warn anyone, he was still curious… but then the man turned around and Dick was stopped in his tracks.

He didn't... He didn't have a face.

Dick gaped and watched as the bumps in the man's face that must be cheekbones rose ever so slightly.

"Oh!" The man said, even though he had no mouth. Dick had absolutely no idea where the sound came from. "You are here!"

Dick turned around behind him, and saw nobody. Something fluttered in his chest. A hope he didn't dare grasp at even though… even though… the man could only be talking to him.

"We lost track of you after the convergence. Most people stick around where they disappear!"

"Are you…" Dick tried, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, "are you talking to me?"

The limited features of the man's blank face softened. "Yes I am, Dick Grayson. You've been lost a long time."

And Dick… didn't know what to do. This entire time he's had absolutely no contact with anything in the world. He couldn't move anything, couldn't touch anything, couldn't speak or make himself known. This scene before him, one where his voice was heard and he was answered… it was so foreign. Unreal. Dick almost reached down to pinch himself.

"But luckily," the man continued, "after a long time searching for you at your home city, we figured you must have found a way to your family. That or began to aimlessly wonder like others like you sometimes do."

"Like… me?"

"Yes," the man nodded then took a step closer. Dick stood his ground as his thoughts ran circles in his brain. What was going on? "You're trapped within the folds of reality, Dick Grayson. It's not something that commonly happens, but something that can be catastrophic if we cannot find you immediately." He paused. "You are Nightwing in this world, are you not? You must understand how the universes work in odd ways."

Dick wanted to nod. Laugh. Cry. Step forward and see if he could touch the man. But he didn't. He just stood there as the man continued.

"You see," the man said, bringing a hand up to his featureless chin, "what happened was that this universe brushed sides with another one. One that's almost exactly the same in every aspect to yours. Normally, when universes brush, they're so different that they reject each other and go on their merry way down the time stream. The problem was, that because these two universes were so similar, reality as we knew it, well, it got a little confused. It tried to sort out what belonged to what. It gets it wrong sometimes, which is why you're like this. In the universe you brushed with, Dick Grayson was dead. Everything else was exactly the same, but because you were dead and alive the universe decided to make you both. This is why you're stuck here. The universe can't remember if you should be living or dead."

Dick never pretended to understand the multiverse. It always seemed the rules were constantly changing. Shifting to accommodate spontaneous things. It seemed the only one who truly had a grasp on the entirety of the universe was Bart Allen, but the kid was shockingly tight lipped about most secrets of reality despite his superhero name of Impulse.

And really, Dick didn't care how he ended up like this. All he could really think was how this man could see him. Was looking for him. Something was finally going to change. Whether he was supposed to be fully dead or fully alive... He didn't really care.

He couldn't stand around, trapped in his own intangible body, and do nothing for much longer.

"So… what does this mean?" Dick asked. "What happens now?"

The man's face squished oddly, and Dick couldn't figure out what he was thinking at all. "What happens now is that we make things right. Return you to the universe you're supposed to be dead in, and keep you in the universe you're supposed to be alive. It will be painful, but don't worry, neither of you will remember a thing."

"Neither-?"

Dick's question didn't get much further, because in an impossible blink of an eye, the man was right in front of Dick, hand pressing against the side of his head with his thumb pressed above the bridge of Dick's nose. Lightning shot through him, and his vision whited out. Everything became too much and so little at the same time. Hot and cold. Loud and silent. He might have screamed or he might have sighed.

Either way, the sensation didn't last for long.

Soon he wasn't feeling anything at all.

-o-o-o-o-

Damian hated this. He knew death and sorrow unlike most others. He had seen men and women fall in so many ways it was impossible to list them all. He had seen the way a corpse would slowly rot, and stink, and collapse. He had seen bodies feasted upon by wolves and flies alike.

He knew death. Yet, for a number of reasons, he just couldn't comprehend this one.

Because Richard couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He was simply missing. Nowhere to be found.

He wasn't dead.

Damian didn't understand why everyone else insisted on believing otherwise. Father had said that he's searched, and for some reason that meant if Batman couldn't find him then he must not be able to be found. No one besides Damian argued with him. Even Timothy didn't believe him.

He at least had the decency to look ashamed when Damian called him out on it.

However, it seemed Damian's thoughts and feelings on the matter didn't, well, matter. Even though he was the last one to speak to Richard. Even though he knew for sure that Richard was somewhere alive out there, doing everything he could to get home. Damian swore he would continue to believe in that. No matter what. Even if these months turned into years. Even if Damian no longer remembered every detail of his face by thought alone.

Father wouldn't let him skip out on the fake funeral though.

Which was horrible for a massive amount of reasons. All of Richard's friends were here, sobbing and blabbering like children. The empty casket sat above a deep hole with flowers piled on top, and one by one someone would approach, say something emotional out loud or under their breath, then leave the flower in the mockery of Richard's life.

Damian was glad that his immediate family went first. That way he could slink to the back of the crowd and hold Titus by the leash. Watch from afar. Plan for the millionth time on how he was going to fix this.

That speedster… Wally West was in the middle of breaking down on top of the casket with large tears cascading down his cheeks when Damian felt a tug on the leash. Damian frowned and looked down at his normally perfectly behaved dog to see the animal trying to tug Damian towards the unoccupied grounds of the manor. Damian tugged Titus gently back, tutting at him under his breath.

Except, Titus didn't stay at Damian's side for long. The animal took one wide eyed look at Damian before turning tail and sprinting. The leash was yanked out from Damian's hand, and it was all Damian could do to not shout in surprise or outrage.

He nervously shot a look at the casket, where Donna Troy was now saying her goodbyes while West leaned onto her for support, making sure no one was watching him, then turned to chase after his disrespectful dog.

It might be a fake funeral, but it was a funeral nonetheless.

Damian ran after Titus, jumping over shrubbery and flowers like they were the gaps between rooftops, diving for the trailing leash whenever he got close enough.

He never got close enough.

Out of breath and covered in grass stains and twigs, Damian watched with glaring eyes as Titus took refuge in a carefully planned grove of trees. Thankfully, Damian saw the dog halt on the other side of a bush, bending his neck down to sniff at something. Probably a wild animal. Even though Damian could have sworn he trained Titus better than to chase rabbits or squirrels.

Damian stuffed his hands in his suit pockets and began to stomp his way over.

"Titus! Quit this misbehaving!"

Titus looked up from what he was sniffing, whined, then bent back down. Completely ignoring Damian.

What was going on with that dog?

Damian walked around the clump of bushes and between the trees, extremely curious as to what was so important that Titus would disregard orders for it.

When Damian saw what Titus was bent over, Damian felt every single molecule of air leave his body like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach.

"Richard?" Damian breathed. Double took. "Richard!"

He sprinted forward and Titus quickly jumped out of the way. Horrified and terrified and shaking, Damian grabbed Richard's shoulders and turned him around, for he was laying face down on the ground.

Richard groaned, but didn't open his eyes. Blood trickled down the corners of his lips and nose. His clothes were filthy. He looked like death.

But he was alive.

Damian turned to his good, good dog. "Go! Get father! Hurry!"

Titus didn't have to be told twice. He barked then sprinted back to the forest.

Damian turned back to Richard, running his hands across his body, taking in the loss of weight, the eye bags, the stains of mud all over his clothes. He shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up, but Richard remained asleep to the world.

It took a second to realize he was crying.

Thankfully, he was able to wipe them away when a confused and worried Bruce Wayne busted into the grove of trees along with the rest of the family and even a few of Richard's friends. Gasps and shouts filled the air, and Damian soon found himself pushed back as Dick was rushed to by the adults.

The ambulance was called not long after.

The drive to the hospital seemed like a dream.

The wait felt like it took years, but Richard only took about three hours to wake up, severely starved and dehydrated and not a single memory of the past five months.

And somehow, everything went back to normal. Richard was released from the hospital a few days later with a strict meal plan and physical therapy schedule. His memories didn't return, but sometimes Damian noticed things had changed in Richard since then.

Like his new and strange fear of small spaces and closed doors.

It didn't matter though. Damian was just… overjoyed that he was right and that Richard was still living a breathing, even if it seemed he had simply vanished and reappeared from thin air, with no trace of anything in-between.

All that mattered was that the family was whole again. Richard was on the road of a full recovery.

No one could ask for more.

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

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Elriel: Halloween Edition

Summary: Azriel and his son go trick-or-treating and stop by Elain's house. They have an adorable encounter. Later that night, Elain goes to Feyre's house for the Halloween party she's throwing and meets her boyfriend, Rhys. Rhysand's brothers also come to the party and Elain runs into Azriel yet again. Let the romance ensue. Basically just a shit ton of fluff. Note: Read it here on AO3!

There was nothing Elain Archeron loved more than giving candy out to little kids on Halloween. Which is why she was currently sitting on her living room couch in her costume, the bowl of candy in her lap as she patiently waited for the first trick-or-treater to come.

It was the first Halloween that she’ll have spent in her new house. She’d recently moved from her studio apartment to a small, two-bedroom house just outside the city. After being promoted from teacher to principal at the elementary school she’d worked at for more than five years, Elain figured a little change was in order.

Unfortunately, the new neighborhood was a bit further from her sisters than her apartment had been. They both lived in the city, Feyre taught painting lessons at the local art store while Nesta worked as a software developer at a start-up tech company. Feyre had also recently moved; her boyfriend of only seven months, Rhysand, asked her to move in with him. Elain hadn't yet met him but from what Feyre had told her, he seemed like he treated her sister really well. But Elain would be the judge of that.

Well, more like Nesta would be the judge of that. Elain was certain that her older sister was going to interrogate the poor man until she's squeezed out his darkest secrets. Nesta had a... unique way with people. Unconventional, but it'd been effective thus far.

Tonight was particularly exciting because the couple was hosting a small Halloween bash at their place. Elain had been bugging Feyre for weeks to properly introduce Rhysand to her and Nesta. Their schedules very rarely matched up.

The doorbell rang, pulling Elain from her thoughts and back to the present. She glanced at the clock. It was four-thirty in the evening. The sun still shone bright in the sky.

She grinned to herself. Let the trick or treating commence.

Jumping up from where she sat, Elain excitedly made her way to the front of the house. She swung the door open. What she saw on her porch melted her damn heart.

A little boy, no older than six, was dressed as a firefighter. He had a tiny hard hat on his head, his chocolate hair curling out from underneath. A dalmatian stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, his other hand clutching a jack-o-lantern bucket for candy. His eyelashes were impossibly long as he looked up at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile. It was contagious.

Elain also noticed that he was alone, no adult in sight.

“Trick or treat!” the boy greeted her.

“Happy Halloween!” Elain replied with a giggle. She put her bowl of candy on the ground to kneel in front of him. She looked around. “Is someone with you?”

“Yeah,” the kid sighed like he just got out of a stressful work meeting. Elain inwardly smiled. “My daddy. But he kept talking and talking about why he thought Mounds was his favorite candy, even though it’s obviously the worst.”

The boy stopped to look at her as if waiting for her to agree. Elain nodded her head vigorously. Naturally.

“He was just talking so much,” the little boy continued. He gestured for Elain to come closer before whisper-shouting, “You know, I really think he needs a girl in his life –”

“TOBIAS!” a strong, male voice called out.

“Uh-oh,” the boy, Tobias, muttered under his breath. He looked up at Elain with pleading eyes. “Don’t let me get in trouble.”

Elain suppressed her laugh and nodded at him. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Tobias held out his pinky finger. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," Elain swore. Gods, this kid was a gem.

Elain watched as a man approached her yard. His face was twisted with frustration, presumably because his son ran away, but he was… beautiful. Elain sucked in a breath as she ran her eyes up and down his body. He was wearing a loose white shirt, slightly sheer, that had a very deep V. The sleeves were cut off messily and he wore a fake sword on his hip. He was a pirate. A sexy pirate. But it was definitely a costume that wasn't advertised as 'sexy.' No, it was the man wearing it that made it sexy. And to make it even better, he looked as if he’d thrown it on last minute when his son reminded him it was Halloween.

The man stopped in front of Tobias. He crossed his arms, paying no mind to Elain.

“You’re in big trouble."

“But –”

“We’ve talked about this, Tobias. You can’t just run away from someone when you get bored.”

Now Elain really had to hold in her laugh. She covered it with a cough.

That's when Tobias’s father realized they had an audience. He directed his authoritative stare to Elain, and his hazel eyes immediately softened. She did her best to not fidget as his eyes ran over her. He must have seen the humor on her face because his lips twitched upward.

Fucking adorable.

“Sorry about my son,” he said sincerely, shooting a glare at an oblivious Tobias from the corner of his eye. “I’m Azriel. And you are?”

“Elain," she told him with a shy smile.

“Elain,” he echoed, testing it out on his tongue. Shivers ran down Elain’s arms. His voice was like velvet. She could listen to him repeat her name over and over again for hours.

Stop being so creepy.

“You, uh –” Azriel stumbled over his words awkwardly as he tried to find the words. “I love your costume.”

Elain blushed appreciatively. But before she could thank him, Tobias groaned.

“C’mon, Daddy, that was so lame. Get her phone number or something.”

Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she nearly lost it. It was Azriel’s turn to blush this time.

“Tobs, now’s not the time –”

“But she’s so pretty and nice! I already love her,” he pouted up at his father.

Azriel mumbled incoherent words as he tried to usher his son off the porch. “We should really go,” Azriel said, trying to avoid eye contact with her. He was so awkward. She loved it. “I’m so sorry again.”

“Wait!" Elain blurted out, trying to delay his departure. Azriel looked at her and she gave him a sheepish smile. "You forgot to grab some candy."

Tobias didn't need to be told twice. Elain held out the bowl for him to choose. He fished around for a while before picking three Skittles packages. Elain gave him a wink before turning to Azriel.

“Everyone should get candy on Halloween,” she grinned at him.

He looked at her curiously before smiling gratefully and taking a piece of candy without even looking to see the options.

“Thank you, Elain," he said, his tone sincere and soft. She nearly melted right there.

"Happy Halloween," she murmured as she watched Azriel back away, Tobias looking at his father as if he had two heads. Azriel seemed to be in a daze, giving Elain a small wave as he continued to walk backwards. He stumbled over his own feet, earning a laugh from Elain. Then, he finally turned around and walked out of sight.

---------------------------

“It’s so wonderful to meet you!” Elain exclaimed, ignoring the hand that Rhysand held out and going straight in for a hug.

“Don’t suffocate him,” Feyre joked as she watched them embrace.

Elain had arrived to their place a couple minutes early, eager to meet her sister’s boyfriend. Elain backed away to let Nesta introduced herself. Elain leaned over to Feyre.

“You didn’t tell me how cute he is,” Elain whispered with a giggle.

Feyre laughed. “Did I mention he has two brothers?”

Elain’s jaw dropped. “No, you seemed to have conveniently left that part out.”

“Well, they’ll be here soon,” Feyre said with a twinkle in her eye. “And they’re both single.”

Nesta turned to them as they laughed secretively. Rhysand followed her gaze. “What are you two giggling about?”

Before Feyre had a chance to answer, the doorbell rang. She excused herself, Rhysand right on her tail.

Elain looked over at her older sister to see her glaring down at her. “Let me guess: you guys were talking about Rhysand’s brothers.”

“How’d you know?”

Nesta let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s already tried to set me up with one of them.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

Nesta scoffed. “Horribly. She failed to mention that he was a grade A –”

“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart,” a low voice interrupted Nesta’s rant.

A man approached them, hands in pockets as he strutted confidently. His long brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and a five o’clock shadow on his sharp jaw. Elain watched as her sister dragged her hands down her face and groaned at the mere sight of him. That only made him chuckle deeply.

“Miss me?”

Nesta ignored his comment and reluctantly gestured to him. “Elain, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is my other sister Elain.”

Cassian shot her a goofy grin and reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Elain. I’ve never seen anyone rock fairy wings like you are.”

Elain couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Ugh, stop charming everyone!”

“I’m irresistible, sweetheart,” Cassian batted his eyelashes.

“I need a drink,” Nesta muttered to herself before walking away and in the direction of the kitchen.

Cassian winked at Elain before following her sister. “I could use a drink too!"

Elain listened to them bicker as they walked away, a smile touching her lips.

Over the next couple hours, more and more people arrived at Rhysand and Feyre’s place. It soon got crowded, Elain unable to hear over the booming music and incessant chatter.

She was sitting on an loveseat in the corner watching Cassian trying to convince Nesta to dance with him when she heard a familiar voice.

"Sorry I'm so late, the babysitter cancelled last minute and I had to find a replacement."

Elain's head snapped to the foyer where Feyre and Rhys stood with another man. Elain got a glimpse of his face as he took off his jacket, and her suspicions were confirmed.

It was Azriel.

Elain's heart was beating out of her chest as she watched Feyre lead Azriel into the living room where she sat.

Then he spotted her.

He stopped dead in his tracks, Feyre continuing to walk and talk, not noticing that she no longer had his attention. No, his eyes were on Elain and Elain alone.

Elain gave him a little wave. Azriel's lips turned into a full out smile as he caught up to Feyre, who had been leading him to Elain anyway. Presumably to introduce him to her and Nesta.

"Azriel, this is -"

"Elain," he finished. His eyes were still on her, disbelief on his face.

Feyre looked between them confusedly. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Uh..." Elain started, unsure of what to say. "Sort of?"

"I went out with Tobias and we incidentally stopped by her house," Azriel explained.

"Well," Feyre said with a mischievous grin. "I guess I'll leave you guys to it." She shot Elain a look that said, You should make a move.

And just like that, they were alone.

Azriel took a seat beside Elain, leaving only a couple inches between them as he turned his body toward her. He smelled amazing.

"So, you're Feyre's sister, huh?" Azriel gazed at her earnestly and bumped his shoulder against hers. "I guess that means we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Elain bit her lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. "No complaints here."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they watched others dancing and drinking. The current song faded out and "Creep" by Radiohead began to play.

"Would you, um... would you like to dance?" Azriel asked her tentatively.

Oh my gods, yes! What kind of question is that?

"I would love to," Elain exclaimed.

Azriel stood and held out his hand. The moment Elain took his hand with her own, she was a goner.

He led them to the makeshift dance floor before bringing her hand to his shoulder and grabbing her waist gently with his hand. Fire shot through Elain when his thumb circled idly on her palm. Then, he pulled her in close.

"This okay?" Azriel murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. She shivered and nodded.

"Did I mention," he continued, spinning them in a slow circle, "that you are absolutely gorgeous?"

Elain hid her face against his shoulder to smile widely before craning her neck to look at with him, a twinkle in her eye. "I think you were too busy tripping over your own feet to mention that."

Azriel tipped back his head and laughed loudly. She loved the sound. "You wound me, Elain," he told her, but Elain could see the faint blush in his cheeks. He leaned in to whisper, "You're right though. You make me nervous."

The music swelled, and Azriel guided both of Elain's hands to cup the back of his neck. He encircled his arms around her waist until their bodies were flush against each other, their foreheads touching.

"I like Tobias. He's a great kid."

Azriel's entire body seemed to relax as he gave her an easy smile. "He's a handful, and I love him."

"I can tell," Elain told him. "You're a good dad."

"Thank you." Azriel huffed out a laugh. "You're something else, Elain Archeron."

Elain leaned her head back and she searched his hazel eyes. "Is that a good thing?"

Something unreadable flashed in his eyes. "Yes."

And then he was capturing her lips in his to give Elain the sweetest kiss she'd ever had.

-----------------------

tag list (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @liquifyme @maastrash @thewayshedreamed

#halloween #my writing #fic #fanfiction #acotar #elriel #elain archeron #a court of thorns and roses

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

Hi! Are you taking Parkner prompts? can you write one where Peter discovers he has to get glasses but is really insecure cause it reminds him of his pre spider bite days so Irondad and Harley reassure him with fluff? thanks!

Peter first got glasses when he moved in with Ben and May. He’d thought the strange blurry vision was just endless tears, the blurriness looked exactly like when he was crying and he had to squint through them to see the world clearly.

He didn’t realize he needed glasses until Ned pointed it out in their English class. His sister had glasses, so he knew how to spot the signs. It wasn’t too hard to tell anyway, Peter kept asking Ned to read the board for him and he was squinting to the point where his eyes were shut.

At first it wasn’t that bad.

He got glasses and he wore them without complaint, and he didn’t mind. It made life easier so there was no point in fighting it.

Until he reached high school.

It wasn’t really a big deal, there was plenty of people with glasses. The difference between him and everyone else was that he was also the biggest nerd. He was on Academic Decathlon, chess club, and robotics, he was kind of a teacher’s pet. Not by choice, just because he was nice and smart.

It got worse when he started getting shoved against the lockers or hit occasional by stray elbows.

May and Ben didn’t have the money for replacement glasses more than once a month, so he was left with cracked lenses, barely held together with tape.

When he got bit by the spider, everything changed. He suddenly didn’t need glasses, he didn’t have asthma, he could stand up for himself and help instead of feel helpless all the time.

He finally felt comfortable in his own skin.

And then, a year and a half later, it was ripped away from him.

He knows it’s not a big deal.

It’s just a pair of glasses. Black square-framed, not as strong of a prescription as he used to have, that he has to wear to see long distance.

But he hates it.

It’s a small thing, a small change, but it reminds of a time where he felt helpless, a time where he wasn’t comfortable being him, a time where his glasses got stepped on when he was shoved into lockers and teased relentlessly.

He hates it.

He doesn’t wear them.

It gives him godawful migraines at school, squinting at the board or taking photos to copy off his phone instead. The worst is leaning over to copy MJ’s notes in Spanish because he can’t possibly see the notes on the projector.

He shoves his glasses case into the bottom of duffel bag when he stays over at Tony’s. Harley’s living at the tower, and the last thing he wants is to wear the glasses in front of the two most important people in his life.

But it only takes a couple hours in the lab before he wants to tear his eyes out. A headache throbs behind his eyes as he squints up at his computer and down at his webshooters, vision foggy and worse than normal.

“You okay there, kid?” Tony asks.

Peter’s too far away to make out the expression on Tony’s face, but he nods anyways. “Just a little tired, is all. I think I might call it an early night, if that’s alright?”

Harley comes up behind him, hands resting on his waist as he presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Let me walk you. You look like you’re one breath away from collapsing.”

He nods and lets Harley lead him out of the lab and to his bedroom.

He’s about to close the door behind him when Harley grabs his arm. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m just tired, Harls. I didn’t sleep well last night, I had that big chem lab due and I stayed up late to finish it. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. I love you.” Harley kisses him quickly before flashing one of his dorky grins and stepping out of the way of the door.

“Love you too.”

When morning rolls around, Peter’s sick of not being able to see anything. His head still throbs angrily and he tries, despite himself, to blink away the unrelenting blur.

He can hear Harley and Tony in the kitchen already, coffee machine humming and pan sizzling.

So he figures he’ll bite the bullet.

He fishes his glasses out of his duffel and shoves them on, holding back the residual anger that makes him want to snap them.

He almost chickens out when he passes the mirror. He looks like the nerdy kid from before the spiderbite. The kid who had thick glasses and wore braces for all of his seventh year, the kid who got pushed around and teased and floated through middle school with only one friend. The kid who couldn’t run in gym class without needing his inhaler and who couldn’t go more than one class without talking about Star Wars.

Hair mussed from sleep, glasses sitting crookedly on his nose, wearing his old Hello Kitty pajama pants and one of Harley’s hoodies that make him look small and young.

He looks like a child, the one thing he was always trying to prove he wasn’t.

Bite the bullet, get it over with. He tries to convince himself he’d rather have vision and self-consciousness than to stumble through another day blindly.

So he steps out into the hallway and forces one foot in front of the other until he makes it to the kitchen.

He pretends to act nonchalant, moving straight for the fridge so he can try to cool his burning cheeks, waiting for the teasing to come, but when he turns around, he’s met with his boyfriend’s wide-eyed stare, and Tony just lifts an eyebrow at him.

“You need glasses?” Tony asks, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t wearing them yesterday.”

Peter shrugs, looking down at his socked feet, shuffling awkwardly. “I don’t like them.”

“You don’t like them?” Harley repeats incredulously. His eyes are almost comically wide as he shoves a hand through his bedhead, a failed attempt at flattening his wild curls. “Why would you ever try to hide this from me?”

He doesn’t know whether it’s a genuine question or not, if Harley’s really asking him to explain the reasons that’s kept him from wearing his glasses, but before he can even try to explain any of it, Tony speaks up, “Didn’t you used to wear glasses as a kid? May’s shown me a few pictures.”

“We thought the spiderbite cured it, but…” he trails off in confusion, part of him still tense as though waiting for someone to tear them off his face and throw them to the ground. He pushes his glasses up his nose and frowns. “I don’t like feeling like the kid from before.”

Tony nods as though he perfectly understands it all, he turns without a word and disappears down the hallway. A moment later, he reappears, a glasses case in hand.

“I, uh, I don’t really wear them all too much, but I suppose getting older sometimes means it’s necessary,” Tony explains. He opens his case and slides the glasses on. “Reading glasses.”

Warmth floods through Peter’s chest. He’s known glasses are normal, he knows there’s a huge number of people who needs them. But seeing Tony, a superhero, needing glasses, that’s a gamechanger.

The shock has Peter silent in return, gaping wordlessly at Tony like this is groundbreaking news.

“My little sister has glasses too,” Harley says, shrugging. “Long distance. She used to get teased in school for it, but pretty much everyone at school got teased for something.”

“Yeah, me too.” The self-consciousness is finally fading. He’s not particularly confident, but he feels a thousand times better knowing the people who’s opinions matter are perfectly happy with it. “Back before the spider, I used to get bullied a lot. I mean, I can’t really blame them, I was the easiest target. Asthma, glasses, dorky, tiny kid who wouldn’t tattle or fight back. I guess I was happy not having to be that kid anymore.”

Tony’s forehead creases, jaw clenching. He never takes that kind of information well, he looks just about ready to get in the Iron Man suit and murder the kids who used to bully him. “You never deserved to be treated like that, kid, and I swear, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. If anybody gives you trouble, you come to me or Harley and we’ll take care of it.”

Finally, a smile graces Peter’s face and he can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Thank you. I know I’m being kinda irrational about all of this, so thank you. Really. It means a lot.”

Harley grins, arms sliding around Peter’s waist to tug him into a hug and he kisses Peter’s forehead.

Tony pretends to gag, like he always does whenever the boys are within a foot of each other, but he’s still smiling, shaking his head in amusement.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #lyss answers #parkner #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #harley keener #Irondad and Spiderson #parley #irondad fic

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chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

The Other You - 12

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

An evening of trying to figure out how needles and threads, seams and stitches, the whole sewing thing worked was exactly what Adrien needed—a distraction in the face of the horrible job he’d done of helping Marinette. It helped him to forget his current reality, if only for a few hours. The praise he’d gotten from Marinette for his attempts, however undeserved he thought it to be, felt like a blanket of love and happiness, swaddling him away from all his troubles.

Marinette was the highlight of the evening. She was everything he could ever wish for at that moment and more. Her attempts to comfort him without any context, her heartfelt laughter at his jokes, her kindness… it all nagged at the bud of their hibernating friendship, making Adrien want to help her even more, to get her out of the pit she’d been thrust into and apologize along the way for everything he’d done.

He didn’t really want to leave, but he had to. One fleeting remark Marinette had made, however, had stuck in his head all the way home and refused to leave even as he was climbing into the window of his apartment.

Sometimes I wish I could be Hawkmoth. I’d akumatize myself an army of seamstresses and would be done with this line in no time.

Chat Noir had changed the subject as fast as he could despite realizing full well that it was a joke, something Marinette would most likely forget the next moment. Yet for him, that prospect was a real possibility, and his mind grabbed onto the idea, not only refusing to let go but deliberating on the details all the way home. He found Nooroo as soon as he’d gotten to his bedroom.

“Can you make an akuma that can sew?”

The kwami, awoken from his sleep, blinked in confusion. “Sew?”

“Yes. I need an akuma that can make clothes, to be exact. And be really good at it. Can you make something like that?” Adrien asked.

Nooroo nodded. “Yes. My wielder can make any akuma with any abilities they wish.”

Adrien sat down on his bed, his mind running in overdrive. It was a crazy idea. He knew that, but he also realized by now that finding a qualified, skilled professional for Marinette on such short notice and in their particular situation with Gabriel steadily going under required no less than a miracle. And, if he couldn’t find her an assistant quick, would it be so bad if he made her one? He’d continue looking for a real person of course, but until the right one came along, would it be so horrible if he akumatized someone to help Marinette?

Eager to follow your father’s footsteps?

The thought alone made him cringe and, pushing it aside, Adrien stood up to get ready for bed. He was not his father, and he would never akumatize people against their will to meet his own agenda.

But if it’s for a good cause?

Adrien stalled, then shook his head and proceeded with getting ready for bed. However he looked at it, the things his father had done were wrong. Even thinking about it these last few days after finding out the whole situation, Adrien couldn’t find in himself to excuse the man. Yes, Gabriel’s goal was somewhat good: saving his wife. Healing his loved one. What was so bad about that? Nothing. His seemingly noble goal, however, didn’t justify his actions. The temptation of an easy fix had blinded Gabriel, slowly ripping him away from reality, stripping him of compassion and reason and little by little, turning him into a monster. Should Adrien repeat his father’s mistake and succumb to the same temptation of an easy fix, disregarding how that may affect others?

Never.

He finished brushing his teeth and put his toothbrush away, catching his own reflection in a mirror.

What about you?

Adrien tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted into a frown. What about him, indeed. Self-akumatazation was possible. He didn’t have to manipulate someone else. He could give those skills to himself and help Marinette on his own. Akumatazation would change his appearance so she wouldn’t know it was him.

Appearance?

Adrien puffed. Who was he kidding? The moment anyone saw him, they’d know he was an akuma since all akumas looked… No. Not all of them. There were somewhat normal-ish looking akumas like Copy Cat or that time Lila was Chameleon. She took on completely normal appearances even if stolen. Luka’s mom didn’t look too crazy as well.

“Nooroo?” he called, going back to his bedroom. “Do akumas always have to look so ridiculous? Can’t they look like a normal person?”

“It depends,” the kwami responded. “Usually there is always something unnatural about akumas because human biology and magic mixed together can’t produce what you consider ‘normal’. However, if someone is a shape-shifter then they can take on as normal of an appearance as they’d like.”

Adrien smirked. Shape-shifting akuma it was then. “Okay. Now, tell me more about how this whole self-akumatization thing works.”

“What are you getting at, Adrien?” Plagg grumbled from his bed. “Go to sleep. You get crazy ideas when you’re tired.”

Adrien ignored him. “Nooroo?”

“Yes, Master,” Nooroo replied, flying closer. “It basically works the same way as akumatizing someone: you pinpoint an object, send an akuma, and give yourself powers. Only with self-akumatazation, there is no one but you in control.”

“And what about de-akumatazation?”

“You can retract the butterfly at will.”

“So, kind of like taking down the transformation?”

“Yes, in a way. Only it is done in stages. First, you recall akuma by will alone, no catchphrase needed. Then, you release the butterfly transformation. However, you should be aware—”

“Adrien, what’s this all about?” Plagg flew closer.

“I think I found the perfect way to help Marinette.”

“And what do Nooroo and self-akumatazation have to do with it?”

“I’ll akumatize myself into a clothes-making extraordinaire and will help her to finish her line.”

Plagg stared at him in shock for a full half-minute before yelping. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“You’ve got responsibilities, for one! You’re a physics teacher and you’re trying to run that fashion-disaster company. Who’s going to do that if you’re parading around as an akuma?”

Adrien hesitated. Plagg had a point. He completely forgot about his school job. But there was only a week or so left until school was out for summer. They didn’t even do much in class these days, so he could easily find a replacement for himself. Or he could claim his saved-up sick days and let the school find someone to substitute for him. He’d have to call a few people tomorrow and see what his options were. As for Gabriel, he’d still like to be involved. Helping Marinette and the rest of Gabriel’s employees couldn’t be done if he were to skip his work at the main office.

“I can find a substitute for my class,” Adrien voiced his thoughts. “That’ll free me up to split my day between the main office and Marinette’s studio.”

“You can’t be serious.” Plagg stared at him in shock. “Adrien, self-akumatization isn’t as straight-forward and easy as it sounds. Why do you think butterfly miraculous wielders always go through the trouble of finding someone else to akumatize instead of giving the powers to themselves? There is a reason, and it’s a good one. Nooroo, tell him.��

“The main reason we avoid self-akumatization is a complete lack of rationality and self-control,” Nooroo explained. “As an akuma, you’ll become obsessed with a broader idea of your goal. For example, akuma searching for justice for a specific person usually starts to judge everyone around them, even completely innocent people. From what I can feel in your heart, Master Adrien, you most likely will be obsessed not just with sewing, but helping Marinette in general.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Adrien frowned. “Helping Marinette is exactly what I’m aiming for.”

Nooroo nervously replied. “You might go a little overboard with that.”

“That’s fine,” Adrien shrugged. “What could be bad in being overly helpful?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Plagg grumbled from his spot. “Akumas have no restraint or social conduct notions despite their good or bad intentions. In other words, you’ll see no boundaries in what you can and cannot do. That’s why there are always two people involved: an akumatized one and the one who akumatizes. One needs the other to keep them in line because they’re incapable of being rational as akumas. You’ll be alone in this so no one would be able to stop you if you go overboard.”

Adrien sighed. “Humour me but I just don’t understand why me being helpful, even if overly, is such an issue.”

“Geez, kid,” Plagg groaned. “You’re too extra as your regular self. I’m afraid to even imagine what you’ll do as an akuma. You’ll cause millions of problems.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “Like?”

“I don’t know, but you’ll surely cause plenty,” Plagg grumbled. “Nooroo, tell him.”

“Well, for one,” Nooroo responded. “You may disregard everything else in your life and keep helping Marinette 24/7. You might not want to leave her side. You might try helping her in everything she does, not just her work. And I mean everything. Everywhere she goes.”

“See, kid?” Plagg scoffed. “Without anyone to control or cleanse you, it may easily turn into a disaster. So, stop being delusional and go to bed.”

Adrien paused. As unlikely as it seemed to him, maybe the kwamis had a point. He didn’t think of that but looking back at all the akumas they’d fought, the “no restraint” and “obsessive goal-reaching” points made sense. Mix in the complication of him being both the akumatized and akumatizing parties… Adrien had to admit the kwamis had a right to be concerned. He wouldn't want to follow Marinette everywhere and help her with everything. She’d get a restraining order against him that same day, and what would that accomplish? He’d rather not imagine it, meaning Adrien needed someone to control him if he were to go through with this. But how could he find someone for that role without giving away the butterfly miraculous? Because giving Nooroo to anyone except Ladybug was out of the question. Giving him to her before Adrien had a chance to execute his plan was also something he couldn't do. Ladybug would never allow him to use a miraculous for personal interests.

“Give up on this insanity while you can,” Plagg grumbled, settling back into his bed. “Go to bed instead. Sleep the crazies off.”

“So, I just have to find a way to control myself?” Adrien murmured.

“No, you don’t!” Plagg sprung up from his spot. “Nothing needs to be found except that cursed assistant. You have plenty of applications. Why can’t you just choose one and be done with it?”

“Because none of those who are still willing to come onboard have the qualifications Marinette needs right now.”

“Then transfer her an assistant from a different department.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” Adrien plopped on his bed. “But Gabriel lost a lot of people in a short period of time. The ones that are left are all tied up and replacement isn’t coming in for a while. If I transfer one—sure, it’ll help Marinette, but I’ll be putting another department in jeopardy, and I can’t afford that because for Gabriel to survive this Fashion Week, we need at least one competent line. So, as bad as it sounds…” Adrien sighed. “The truth is, my father planned Marinette’s line as experimental, and it was supposed to debut only if she’d manage to finish it on time. At least that’s what his notes say.”

“So basically”—Plagg crossed his arms over his chest—“her line matters only to her and it has no effect on the company’s overall image?”

“Exactly.” Adrien nodded. “And no matter how much I want her to succeed, I can’t jeopardize the whole company for an experimental line. So, if I want to help her, I’ll have to do that myself.”

Plagg frowned. “Sometimes I’m astonished at how you can still care this much.”

Deep sigh escaping his lips, Adrien let memories flood his mind. “Until I screwed up our friendship, Marinette had always been nothing but kind to me, and despite everything, there is still so much good in her. She’s much stronger than I ever thought her to be, so yes, despite everything, I still care and I want to help. I owe her for my past mistakes, and it’s because of my father that she’s in the situation she’s in right now. I can’t just walk away and leave her to fail. Especially not when I can help. Don’t you think there’s a reason we found Nooroo when we did? It can’t be just a coincidence.”

Plagg pressed his lips together and stared at Adrien for a short while. “It’ll backfire. Mark my words, kid. It won’t end well. And that’s coming from the god of destruction himself.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Adrien replied, getting under the comforter. “Tomorrow, though. I need some rest and time to come up with a way to stop myself in case it’s needed. And it’s the middle of the night, so goodnight guys. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Plagg grumbled and flew back to his basket; Nooroo headed to his own sleeping spot.

Adrien closed his eyes and passed out, his night flying by so fast it felt like his alarm went off just a couple of minutes later. Getting out of bed, he yawned his good mornings to the kwamis and got to his morning routine. Afterwards, Adrien called the school he was working at to inform them he wouldn’t be able to finish the last week of teaching. The principal promised him it wasn’t a big deal and that with him running back and forth between Gabriel and his classroom, they anticipated this course of action and already had a replacement in mind. Adrien was free to take all the time off he needed. That matter settled, Adrien called for Nooroo.

“Change your mind, kid?” Plagg zoomed out of his basket.

“No,” Adrien said, staring at a picture frame on his night table that had caught his attention while he was on the phone. “And I think I have an idea for how you can stop me if there ever was a need.”

“Me?” Plagg yelped.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy having control over me?” Adrien smirked at the kwami.

Plagg pouted and turned away. “Not in the slightest.” A moment later, he looked back at Adrien. “But do tell me what you have in mind.”

Gesturing for him and the newly-appeared Nooroo to follow, Adrien headed for his home office and found an old picture of Marinette on his computer. Printing a few copies on a single sheet of paper, he cut them apart.

“Since I’m helping Marinette,” he explained to the kwamis. “I think it’s only reasonable that I use her picture as my akumatizing object. And it will be very easy for Plagg to tear if I refuse to release the butterfly. What do you think?”

“That will work,” Nooroo nodded.

“Bad idea,” Plagg grumbled. “But at least it’s something.”

Adrien looked through his schedule. “I’m free to help Marinette until around five. Then, I need to go to the main office and work there, so if I won’t cooperate, you have my permission to do anything needed to lure me somewhere private and rip the picture.”

Plagg’s tiny smirk disappeared just as fast as it’d surfaced. “Fine, but you owe me big for this.”

“I’m glad you’re finally on board,” Adrien said, standing up. “Well, if there’s nothing else to discuss, I guess we’ll start?”

“Excuse me, Master?” Nooroo asked, flying closer. “Have you chosen who you’re shifting to once akumatized?”

“Yes. My cousin Felix.”

Plagg groaned. “Couldn’t you find someone other than that pain in the ass with that attitude of his?”

“He isn’t that bad,” Adrien chuckled. “Felix is just a bit peculiar, but he means well.”

“Sure he does,” Plagg grumbled. “Don’t blame me when your Princess runs away from the Felix-you in terror.”

“Don’t worry,” Adrien smirked. “Marinette isn’t one to be pushed around. If anything, I should be concerned for myself and my rear.”

“Why Felix then?”

“I need a proven professional.” Adrien shrugged. “And for all his faults, Felix is great with making clothing. I know he has the skills for me to borrow. And”—Adrien raised his finger before Plagg could comment—“I need someone who doesn’t live in Paris. We can’t risk Marinette running into the person whose image I’m taking on and discovering anything we don’t want her to discover.”

Plagg puffed. “What if your dear Felix suddenly decides to visit? He does visit you pretty often.”

“I’ll know,” Adrien said. “Felix always tells me when he’s coming for a visit, so in case he does decide to show up, we’ll make sure he and Marinette don’t see each other.”

Plagg didn’t look convinced. “Sure, like anyone would ever believe that their boss’ nephew who lives in London would suddenly appear to play an assistant to a struggling designer. Marinette won’t suspect a thing.”

“I’m actually counting on that,” Adrien shrugged with a chuckle. “Now, are there any more questions or we are ready for a test run?”

“You aren’t listening to me anyway,” Plagg mumbled.

“I’m ready,” Nooroo bowed his head.

“Ready for what?” Duusu flew out of Adrien’s closet where he’d built a nest out of Adrien’s clothes for himself to sleep in. “Are we doing something exciting?”

It took a few minutes for the kwamis to get Duusu, who’d slept all through the night’s conversation, up to date. Adrien took that time to get food for the kwamis and papers that he needed for work in his bag. Once all explanations were done, the peacock kwami excitedly flipped in the air, ‘ready for an adventure’, as he’d described it. Prompted, Adrien stood up in the middle of the room and, once everyone got ready, called out, “Nooroo, Wings Rise.”

A pleasant tremor of electricity flowed over his body, transforming Adrien into a superhero he’d never imagined himself to become. A completely new suit wrapped around his body: deep purple dress pants, a matching vest, and a dress shirt of a similar hue but a lighter, almost white colour, a butterfly miraculous pinned at its mandarin-style collar. The matching purple mask covered his face as a cane appeared in front of Adrien, enticing him to reach forward and take it. He obliged, feeling a rush of power coursing through his veins as soon as his fingers wrapped around the cane. Not like Plagg’s, something different. More tender, fragile even. Inspiring.

He looked himself over. “Classy. I like it. If not for the mask and my lack of sewing abilities, I’d go to work like this.”

“Since when do you care about your looks?” Plagg remarked. “I thought you hated fashion?”

“Nothing’s wrong with appreciating a good outfit when I see one,” Adrien shrugged, trying to remember Nooroo’s instructions. With no pre-existing butterflies, Adrien had to conjure one himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated, lifting his hand to the miraculous on his chest. It slightly glowed and out of nowhere, a white butterfly appeared in Adrien’s palm. Adrien covered it with his other hand and focused on his desire to help Marinette. The butterfly glowed brighter as light energy enveloped it.

“Don’t fly too far away, my little akuma,” Adrien said, releasing the butterfly as he picked up Marinette’s picture. “I need your powers for my mission.”

The butterfly fluttered its wings and landed on the picture in Adrien’s hands. Light smog engulfed him, leaving a faceless shape of a human in his place. Adrien sucked in the air as an overwhelming desire suffocated him.

Help Marinette.

His breathing laboured, heart sprinting, Adrien smirked to himself, walking to his table. He picked up the photo of Felix he’d prepared ahead of time, immediately assuming the form of the man in it. Sleek hairstyle brushed to the side, a light grey dress shirt, black vest, black tie, a pair of matching dress pants and a serious expression on his face. There was no way Marinette would recognize Adrien despite the family resemblance being rather incredible.

Marinette.

The thought coursed through his mind, overtaking his every sense and pushing everything else aside.

Help Marinette.

He had to go and help her now.

He had to hurry.

She needed him.

Forgetting breakfast and his jacket, Adrien sprinted out of the door and headed towards Gabriel’s office as fast as he could. In record time, he’d reached the building, obsessed with one idea only.

Help Marinette.

Help Marinette whatever it took.

“Can I help you?” the object of his obsession stared at him as he froze at the door to her office.

There she was. He had to help her. She would accept his help. He’d do whatever it took and he’d do it with style just because Marinette was amazing and deserved the best helper around.

‘Felix’ straightened up. “Quite the opposite, Mademoiselle. It is I who would be helping you.” He stepped into the room and bowed low. “Your knight in shining armour has arrived.”

Marinette puffed, pressing her lips into a thin line, as she lowered her eyes back to the garments she was working on. “I don’t have time for your jokes, Adrien. Some of us need to work.”

‘Felix’ stilled. He knew that he and his cousin looked incredibly alike, but Marinette had met Felix. She should’ve seen the difference. First, their characters were polar opposites. Second, being raised and still living in London, Felix had always preferred a much classier way of dressing and styling his hair than the more liberal approach Adrien favoured. That set them apart quite distinctly. Or at least he thought so.

“My apologies…” ‘Felix’ started, his eyes catching his own reflection in a mirror behind Marinette. He froze, feeling like banging his head on a table because it wasn’t ‘Felix’ who looked at him back from the mirror. It was a man with a crooked tie, a few undone buttons at the top of his shirt, and dishevelled hair that resembled Chat Noir more than his cousin. He should have fixed those after running most of the way here if he wanted Marinette to take him for his cousin.

“Yes?” Marinette frowned.

‘Felix’ cleared his throat. “Accept my apologies for my appearance. It seems I was in so much of a rush to be by your side that I neglected the basics of grooming.” Walking up to the mirror, he fixed his clothes in place and used the comb in his pocket to brush his hair to the side, making him look more like Felix and less like Adrien with every stroke.

“Quit it, Adrien,” Marinette scoffed, not giving him another glance. “I’m busy.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mademoiselle.” he turned her way “I do understand your confusion, though. My cousin and I look much too alike for my taste, but I’m no Adrien. My name is Felix. Felix Graham de Vanily.”

The confusion on Marinette’s face was fascinating to watch. “As in Gabriel Agreste’s nephew?”

“In the flesh.” ‘Felix’ nodded. “You’ve heard of me?”

She set down the garment in her hands. “We met back in the day, once or twice. And M Agreste mentioned you a few times. Mostly regretting that his son didn’t have a shred of your talent.”

‘Felix’ quirked an eyebrow, wanting to get angry, but the thought of helping Marinette pushed everything aside. She needed to accept his help. For that, he needed her to like him. He had to do whatever it took. Play along if he must. Don’t waste his energy on pointless anger at a person that was no more.

“Ah, my unfortunate, talentless cousin,” ‘Felix’ shrugged dramatically. “Such a blemish on our family name. Such a failure.”

Marinette frowned. “I’m not Adrien’s biggest fan, but aren’t you being a little harsh here? He is your family.”

Coming closer, ‘Felix’ leaned on Marinette’s desk. “I guess he does deserve a bit of my recognition if only for calling me to work with a beauty such as yourself, Mademoiselle.”

“Adrien called you? To work with me?”

He nodded. “Begged me on his knees. Said it was some kind of an emergency, and without me, my uncle’s whole legacy would vanish up in smoke. I couldn’t refuse him when he put it like that.”

“I wouldn’t say the whole company’s fate is at stake,” Marinette mumbled. “It’s more like just my career.”

“The same thing,” ‘Felix’ shrugged. “You are my uncle’s most promising protégé. We can’t afford for your career to die before it flowers, now can we? So, let’s skip the chit-chat and get to work. What do you want me to do?”

Marinette hesitated. “With all due respect, from what I’ve heard from M Agreste, I should be your assistant, not the other way around. Are you sure you want to help me instead of working on your own projects?”

‘Felix’ straightened up and walked to stand right in front of Marinette. Taking her hand, he pulled her up to stand before him. “How can I simply stay on the sidelines when such an incredible woman and a rare beauty like yourself needs a knight to save her?” A satisfied smirk on his lips, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “There is nothing I desire more in this world right now than to help you, Mademoiselle, in whatever form or shape you need it.”

Marinette squeaked, her cheeks turning pink as she slowly pulled her hand away. “Let’s keep it professional, M Agr—”

“Felix,” he corrected. “Please, call me Felix. And absolutely. I’m pure professionalism, but pardon my English manners if they are too unfamiliar and make you uncomfortable. Cherishing a gorgeous woman is customary where I’m from.”

“Ah… alright…” Marinette looked around the studio. “Well, I do need help, so if you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’m positively certain.”

“What do you want to do then?”

‘Felix’ looked around, all the things in the room unexpectedly making sense, all the processes he saw in progress looking familiar, ideas already forming in his head as he glanced over the unfinished outfits hanging on mannequins. “I can do anything, so put me where you need me the most.”

She hummed, rummaging through her papers. “Then, let’s do this: I’ll give you one of the projects I haven’t started on yet, so you can make it from scratch. This way we won’t hinder each other.”

“Sounds good to me.” ‘Felix’ bowed his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He did it! He got her to accept him. Why were her cheeks covered with a pretty pink, though? ‘Felix’ had done nothing that warranted Marinette blushing over him. True, he paid her a few well-deserved compliments but that was common courtesy, wasn’t it? Or was she that unaccustomed to receiving a little attention?

A glint of mischief sparked in ‘Felix’s’ eyes. He had just found another aspect Marinette needed his help with—a boost of confidence. From now on, he’d make sure to shower her with compliments and attention whenever he could. Helping Marinette couldn’t be restricted to sewing only. He could do so much more. He would do so much more. He should start straight away. So, he leaned closer and purred into her ear.

“Your wish is my command, Mademoiselle. Just say the word and it shall be done.”

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #aged up adrienette #hawkmoth adrien #adrienette #the other you #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml fanart #butterfly adrien #adrien agreste

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krispydefendorpolice · 5 years

Text

The Demon’s Bride (8)

New chapter of the main story. This was what caught my interest to update this week so I hope the chapter’s enjoyable.

What to expect? Salt warning ahead. We get to find out what the car was about. And some fun as the kids spend the day at the mall. (Not too much of that as the chapter was getting really long). If you want more details about their morning at the mall send me an ask and I can add it as a drabble story.

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

——————————

Mme. Bustier was the first one off the bus. As soon as she was on the ground she stormed over to where Marinette waited with Damian and his brother.

“How could you be so irresponsible Marinette,” Celine began when she was close enough to the girl. Marinette wasn’t expecting her to grab her arm and pull her away from the men. “You are supposed to set an example for your classmates and this is how you behave

Marinette moved her feet so that she would stumble a bit and keep up her image of ‘clumsy class president’. When she got her feet under her, unfortunately the position she was left in was in the very middle of her teacher and the classmates who disliked her. She could see Nino and Kim over the heads of the others but it looked like Ivan and Nathaniel were blocking them. Either intentional or not she didn’t care.

“Jeez Marinette we already knew you were an attention whore but who knew you were a slut as well,” Alya said snidely.

“That will be enough from you Mlle Césaire,” a new voice cut over the voices of her classmates.

The students turned to see who approached. The small Chinese woman wore a furious expression as she came up to them. A tall blonde followed man followed with a bored expression on his face while the brunette next to him looked entertained by the kids behaviors.

“Back on the bus Mlle Césaire, you’ve lost the privilege of spending the free day at the mall. As for you Caline, what do you think you’re doing bringing the children out without adequate supervision?”

Mme. Bustier tensed at the chastisement but lifted her chin defensively as she answered, “I though my presence alone would be an appropriate amount of supervision as they are nearly adults now and know not to leave the mall property.”

“Apparently not adequate enough as you left a student behind without supervision. And what’s worse Caline is you did not notify either myself or any of the other chaperones, about changes to the plans or when a student goes missing.”

“She was never missing,” Bustier argued, “she was at the hotel. She was perfectly safe until she decided to put herself in danger by going off with these hoodlums.” She gestured to the men again.

While the adults were arguing the kids had broken apart to watch and Marinette had moved back to stand with Damian. Her friends joined them as they watched Bustier get her ass handed to her verbally.

“I didn’t name any student,” the woman hissed, “interesting how you thought of Marinette.”

“And last night!” The woman screamed. “You took the students out for an unplanned dinner without the support of the additional chaperones. Marinette was left behind because you,” she stressed the word with a finger jab at the other teacher, “didn’t bother to do a proper head count and dismissed the concerns of the students when they tried to bring it to your attention.”

“They’ve been known to lie before,” Caline tried to argue.

“I don’t care if they were akumatized to lie. It would have taken you five extra minutes to do a headcount yourself and check that all the students were present. Something you failed to do. And you had plenty of time to notify us this morning. It is a thirty minute drive from the hotel to here and not once did you call any of our phones to let us know about the change in plans or that Marinette was left behind.”

“She missed the bus. If she can’t be responsible enough to get...” Bustier started.

“No,” she was interrupted, “Marinette is not responsible for you leaving her behind. You were derelict in your duty and negligent with the safety of the children in your care. When we return to France I will be taking this to the school board and asking for your termination.”

“Furthermore,” she added stepping close to Mme Bustier and lowering her voice, “if you are ever alone with any of these students or ‘forget’ or ‘misplace’ another student I won’t wait until we get back to France to turn you in for child neglect and endangerment. I’ll go straight to the Gotham police. Have I made myself clear?”

Caline Bustier nodded in fear. Her career as a teacher was over. She knew it. The only thing she could do was make sure she didn’t end up in jail over this.

The woman turned back to the class. She frowned when she looked at Alya, “Mlle Césaire, I believe I told you to get back on the bus. You will wait with Monsieur Marchand,” the class looked back at the bus to see their amused gym teacher waiting by the bus, “as for the rest of you. Mlles Rossi, Haprèle, Couffaine, Lavillant, Raincomprix and MM Bruel, and Kurtzberg you will go with Monsieur Bernard’s group”

“Ms Dupain-Cheng...”

“Pardon Mme Cheng,” Marinette spoke up, “perhaps we could use the same plan we had for our free day by the hotel. The students break into pairs or small groups and check with you every hour by phone. We can stay within the mall and meet for lunch at the foodcourt?”

The Chinese teacher nodded. “Very well, as you all will remember in the agreements you signed prior to the trip you are permitted to take honor based supervision of yourselves. Report in on time and you will be extended the privilege of small group breakouts on our last day here. Report to me the groups you decide on before leaving and meet at the food courts at 13:30. M. Bernard and I will walk around the mall to keep on eye on you. Name tags are to be worn at all times and any bad behaviors on your parts will revoke your privileges.”

Marinette whispered with her friends before bumping Nino with her shoulder and walking to the teacher. Once Mme Cheng had their names down as partners and Max, Kim, and Alix as another group, they walked over to the Gothamites.

Marinette grabbed Damian’s hand and pulled him after her as she headed into the mall.

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

Damian followed Mari as she led him and her group of friends to the different stores. He smirked at Jason when the older man just stared at Damian’s willingness to be led by the smaller girl.

As they browsed through the third clothing store Damian considered the other kids in Mari’s class. He hadn’t been surprised to see two faces from their past. He’d made a mental note of both Lila and Juleka’s faces as he passed them when searching for Mari in the school list the evening before but hadn’t mentioned them to his family. He wasn’t surprised by Lila ignoring him but when Juleka had barely glanced at him he noticed. Mari seeing where his gaze was directed had given his hand a squeeze and smiled when he turned his attention to her.

He squeezed back letting her know he got her unspoken message.

There was more going on than she could explain. Trust me.

He smiled in return. I’ll wait to hear it. I’ll always trust you.

He accepted the shirt Mari handed him and followed her towards the fitting rooms at the back of the store. When he came out in the band tee he was surprised to see Mari’s outfit. She had been wearing an outfit similar to his old one. Jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt and a riding jacket.

Now she was wearing a plaid skirt that reached mid thigh, two suspenders crossed over a high necked sleeveless blouse. She lost an inch in height without her shoes but the fact her socks reached knee-high completed the look.

The Parisian’s cheered as they came out in their own Mari designed outfits. The star of their impromptu fashion show bowed before everyone changed back into their regular clothes. When Damian left the dressing room it was to see Mari purchasing the outfit she was wearing. The sneakers looked a little odd with it but he suspected she’d be looking for replacement shoes at the next store.

As lunch approached they headed towards the food court. The students checked in with french-chinese teacher that had stopped the first teachers tirade. He had a great deal of respect for the way she handled the teacher after hearing the stories from Mari and her friends about how their classmates have been behaving for the last few years.

They had avoided the specific topic of Lila and why the class had behaved as they did when they first arrived. The shops were not secure enough places to discuss it and as they walked from one to the next they had occasionally seen other groups.

Oddly enough the other groups would either ignore theirs or they would glare at Mari’s group as if they had done a personal wrong to the kids. Mari and her friends ignored them except to take paths around the other groups as to avoid having to interact with them. However that was done without much conscious thought on their parts, seemingly a long established behavior.

In the food court the groups separated so that each person could get their own preferred lunch. Mari had grabbed Damians hand and dragged him towards one of the mini shops with a Chinese theme.

“What do you think of the broccoli and beef?” She asked him as they waited in line to order.

“I don’t eat meat anymore,” Damian said looking at the vegetarian options.

“Oh. What’s the story behind that?” She asked after they placed their food order.

Damian smiled at the memory it recalled, “It involves a cow, a large bat stencil, a can of non-toxic hair color spray, and a stubborn 12 year old.”

Mari snorted, “stubborn went without saying Dami. So you have a pet cow now?”

Damian nodded, “Batcow is quite happy living on the property.”

Mari grinned brightly, “you call him Batcow? Do you even have a secret identity or is that idea just a myth?”

“When you live in Gotham people expect you to be a bit eccentric. Having a cow called Batcow is one of the least odd ways to honor the city’s heroes.” Damian said as they waited.

When their number was called Damian picked up the tray and walked to the table where his brother and Mari’s friends were meeting with their own lunches. Mari fell into step two paces behind him and followed him as he weaved his way through the mass of tables.

He placed the tray of food down in the center of the table while he and Mari took the end seats on opposite sides of the table. Mari picked up the tub of white rice and scooped out a serving onto one of the plates they had grabbed. Damian picked up the second plate and began filling it with half the stir fry from another container. He and Mari switched plates and he placed the remaining stir fry onto his plate. Mari passed him the soy sauce packet after she used some on her rice and the packet with the wooden chopsticks.

As he was eating he noticed that Todd was staring at him. He raised a brow at his brother and waited for him to speak.

Mari noticing his attention turned to him as well.

“You just, he just, she...” the man stumbled over the words to explain.

“I think you might need a few more words monsieur to make a bit of sense,” Mari said sweetly.

Jason eyed the girl with wariness. Not trusting that tone when she was that comfortable with Demon Spawn.

Damian just smirked at him when he backed down.

“Are we still settled on dinner with my family this evening?” He asked Mari.

“Yep. I can get permission to go. Oh,” she exclaimed, “I might need your permission to bring one of my friends though. We have orders to stay in pairs at the very least.”

“Orders?” Damian asked shifting in his seat to glance at the others. They had stopped their own conversations when he had asked about dinner.

“Orders,” Mari confirmed with a smile.

Damian tilted his head to the side and switched to Arabic so that Jason could follow their conversation. “How much do they know?”

Jason stiffened at the implication and assessed the other Parisian teens.

Mari did a quick glance over Damian’s shoulder, checking on where Lila and the rest of her class was, before answering in the same language. “The boys only know I ran into an old friend. She was with me when I had to report running into an old friend and the leap of logic that one of the Bats that rescued me was the friend was made.”

Damian narrowed his eyes and considered, “Will they know?”

“They also follow orders. We,” Mari said gesturing to herself and the other teens, “all have orders similar to the bat and know how to keep secrets.”

“Do they work for the league?” Damian asked.

It was Mari’s turn to snort, “No. Paris is a bit of a dumping ground for troublesome knives. Not to mention it’s bad for most people’s health.”

“Similar to the bat,” Damian repeated and considered what she meant. “They do hero work?”

Jason’s brow raised in surprise but he still didn’t speak.

Mari smiled mischievously, “often enough to have their own names.”

Before Damian could ask another question the Parisian phones started to ding with alerts.

Marinette immediately turned her attention to the phone and opened it. Standing she said, “Sorry Dami, I need to rain check on dinner. Would you pass my apologies to your family?”

Damian nodded and watched as Mari and the shorter, bespectacled Parisian and the girl followed Mari as they left the table. They were met by the female teacher at the edge of the food court and the trio walked towards the mall exit. The other two teens had waved them off and opened their phones to a news app.

Damian watched a newscaster was reporting about some sort of disturbance in Paris, France.

——————————

M. - monsieur abbreviated

MM. - monsieurs

Mme - madame

Mlle/s - mademoisell/mademoiselles

So I introduced some new characters in this chapter. Please let me know if you have any questions on them. I want to make sure I answer them and creator brain doesn’t always let me anticipate what information I left unspoken.

So I know it’s been mentioned often enough I’ve seen posts about it cross my dash (is that what it’s called?) several times. Likes are awesome but if this is enjoyable please share the shiny rock with others and repost the chapter. Thank you.

Permanent tags: @mindfulmagics @ozmav @bluerosette23 @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @northernbluetongue @scribblinggraveyard

@fertileleaf @evil-elf16 @mellownieice @mystery-5-5 @indecisive-mess-named-me @sonif50 @tog84 @g-arya @legendaryneckjudgestudent @tbehartoo @ravennightingaleandavatempus @zebrabaker @autisticlinx @moonyloonyx @hinata3487 @mooshoon @shamefullove @pepelachanel @vivilakitty @2sunchild2 @littleredrobinhoodlum @black-streak @mycupisbroken @crytallized @kelelamentia @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @multplelifes @unabashedbookworm @mlbchaosqueen @mysupporthyperfixations @peachedpocky @evil-cricket @novicevoice @lostinday @pheonixashtree @thestressmademedoit @queenmj10 @bluefyoto94 @valeks-princess @luciferge @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @alwaysnumberonetruth

#The Demon’s Bride #Betrothed AU #daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #DLDR #dead dove don’t eat

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rosiewrld0211 · 4 years

Text

“You’re almost at the door”

☪ group: Red Velvet

☪ genre: angst, angst, angst!

☪ word count: 2.6k

☪ notes: ok so first post and it’s FULL ANGST but there’s no better way yo strat. enjoy!

GIF not mine. Creadits to the owner.

You heard the slamming of the door. Joohyun took her sweater before leaving. For the first time in the whole night, you let the accumulated tears come out.

The two of you started arguing almost four hours ago and didn't stop yelling at each other until your girlfriend decided it was enough. You could see the finality in her eyes; the last time you connected eyes shook you to the core.

You were left lying on the floor. Crying in anguish and fear. You were afraid. Scared that she would surrender and abandon you. Frightened that things couldn't be fixed. Terrified that she'll find someone else. So you sobbed for the rest of the night like that would help. As if the ten fights you had in two weeks were easy to ignore.

It was overwhelming. You'd been married five years now. Only 21 when you tied the knot. Time flew by, but it was enjoyed to the fullest. Even now, when there were days you couldn't look at each other's faces, you yearned for one another as if your life depended on it.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

She wanted to start a family. That's why you were constantly at each other's throats. But you didn't feel ready and she always used the argument that her "youth was not eternal". You wanted to give her all the happiness in the world because that's what she deserved. But both of your careers were just taking off and a child could get in between that.

The moment the light started leaking through the curtains didn’t catch your eye. Staring at one point in the ceiling you laid on your back. You felt empty. The relationship no longer had an escape route. It was either fixed now or never. But you didn't want to be the one that begged for forgiveness. Joohyun had to forget her pride and apologize for the first time in her life.

So the doubt stayed for a while. Your fingers lingered over the call button, hesitation present for a few seconds. If you called her, you'd be the one who'd regret it. Again.

You ended up swallowing your sorrows and blocking the phone.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

The week went on while you tried to forget about her absence. The questions of how and where she was were buried. You ignored the loneliness of going to bed and waking up with no one by your side. And you failed to cook anything moderately edible. And all that lasted for exactly seven days, not a word from Joohyun.

Until the papers arrived.

You stood up one Friday night to reluctantly answer the door. The movie you were watching remained in the background. It ended up being Seungwan, who quickly handed you the envelope before giving you one last look of mourning.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Was the only thing she said before rushing back through the hall. And you could have sworn that the shape walking towards the elevator was Joohyun's.

And she had every right to be sorry. When you opened it and pulled the documents out, it felt as if your hands were on fire. Breathe was knocked out of your lungs and the waterfalls in your eyes appeared. A muffled scream left your throat before hitting the ground. The only thing you could hear was white noise as you lamented yourself for the rest of the night.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

For the tenth time, you cried in the back seat of a taxi. You were sure that by this point the whole city knew about your heartache.

The man in his sixties, whom you managed to recognize as Jong-Ho, glanced at you in the rear-view mirror of the vehicle. He shared a look of empathy as if he truly knew the feeling. He flipped his head and stared at you once the light turned red. Looked as you sobbed and drained all the water in your body in the form of tears.

You got off at the entrance to your building, quickly paid for the ride, and then apologized for the mess. When you walked in, the security guard gave you the same look like the taxi driver, already used to seeing you in this condition. You kept going, staring directly at the floor, all the way to the elevator.

And you weren't brave enough to connect your eyes, afraid it would get worse when you realized he pitied you.

Back in your apartment, you laid on the couch, ditching your shoes on the way. You managed to spot one of your cats in the corner of the room. Relaxed, asleep, not even moving when you walked in. Your eyes moved to the empty canvas in the other corner of the room, next to the discarded negatives on the floor.

Your mind went blank.

The older techniques of photography were not interesting in your opinion, but after Joohyun's insistence on saving your memories, you were unable to resist. You ended up not turning them into positives after all.

The couch creaked as you got up. With little strength, your feet headed where you were looking. Standing in front of what could be the entire narrative of your relationship, the tears began to stream again. You couldn't stand all the feelings, falling to your knees.

You picked up one, then another, a third one followed. You ended up remembering the fifteen years you spent together. Despair won, making you search for your phone on the outer pocket of the jacket. You dialed the number of the person who loved you the most. The number of the person you loved the most.

"Hello?"

You didn't hold out. Sobs hit the device while your eyes wandered on the sequence of images. Joohyun laughing on her high school desk. You remembered everything as if it happened just seconds ago. How the teacher hushed you both for giggling too much. How your, at the time, best friend used you as a support to keep from falling to the floor. How you felt your stomach squirm with the joy of the moment.

"Y/N?"

The crying intensified. With one arm used as support, you looked for another negative, found the one you took of Joohyun blushing, hiding her face from the camera with her hands. Your mind reminded you of the different emotions that crossed her eyes when you confessed your feelings. How they narrowed at first, then flooded with tears that wanted to escape and finally lighted up. The memory of how she rushed over made you feel butterflies.

"Y/N!"

You took the roll of pictures of your then-girlfriend in your hands. Sleeping too peacefully to seem real in your shared bed. You felt as if that day was yesterday. Remembering the euphoria when she got on her knee to propose earlier that night. The six years of relationship passed by in seconds. The thought of her rehearsing her speech in front of the mirror. And you also recalled that when you said 'Yes!' she looked as if she felt like the luckiest woman in the whole world. Because when you hugged, a tornado destroyed everything in you and replaced it with pure happiness.

"Are you okay?"

It came as a whisper, almost inaudible. The same thing she asked you months ago when she introduced the idea of a divorce. You couldn't believe how raw everything felt. You tried to come to terms with what happened, but it just didn't stick with you.

It all resembled how Joohyun sat you down that one night. When she told you she was done with everything, that she couldn't take it anymore. You remembered listening to Joohyun tell you that all she wanted was a family and that if you weren't willing to start one, she would do it on her own. And then you felt everything again.

"I'm hanging up, Y/N."

You barely heard between your sobs. Remorse filled your system. Because if there's only one thing you could change, it would be your decision. You know you failed. You know that if you had just been a little less egoistic, you could be seeing her in person right now instead of crying on the phone.

You deigned to look up, where your blurred vision fell on the blank canvas. You hadn't been able to paint anything ever since she left. You were aware that your muse has moved on from you.

The only thing that came to your mind every time you picked up a pencil was the image of your tired wife, laying on her back, asking you to go back to bed. And you realized that you will not be able to witness anything like that again, the only thing that you could do is dream about it until you wake up alone again in a bed you used to share.

Because Joohyun, the person you loved the most, became a chimera. A memory you can only pray to have again.

"I'm sorry, Hyun."

Was the mumble that came out before the line went out. The last thing you said to her before the darkness consumed you one more time.

You saw her at an art exhibition.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

Most of the pieces displayed were portraits. The artist wanted to bring back the essence of past centuries

The place was huge and the amount of walking was tiring. Your legs felt numb at one point. One of the armchairs in the middle of the room looked tempting, and you couldn't resist making your way over it.

You glanced around trying to find something to entertain yourself. The paintings in that room were still new for your eyes, even after almost three hours of wandering. It didn't take long to realize that you had paid too much to just sit for the last half hour.

On that kind of occasions, it was impossible to not ignore the other people. It was a personal moment, no better way to communicate something than through art. That's how you spent the rest of the visit. Discovering what you missed at first glance, staring at all the people immortalized on canvas, analyzing the artist's intentions with each brushstroke.

It took you by surprise. You were so focused on moving to the next room that it startled you for a moment. The air was knocked out of your lungs and you felt a lump forming on your throat. You turned around for a moment, recovered your breath and then faced her. She looked slimmer than you remembered. Your eyes burned like hell and tears threatened to escape.

You stared at her for what felt like years, but it was just a few seconds.

She was sitting, looking straight, her daughter holding her hand tightly. She was wearing a white dress from what you assumed was her wedding.

You looked her hands, how the corners of her lip rise a little. The way her shoulders were straight and looked smaller than usual, how they blended so well with her collarbones. She seemed to have no makeup on, but you knew her, and you also knew that she practiced for years to perfect that look.

Relief filled your body when you noticed the tiniest of light on glimmering on her eyes. The child looked just like her, with less marked features. The question of how much time she dedicated to her daughter arose. Probably every second she could.

You frowned and lipped. The tears were held back with some blinks, avoiding making a scene was your priority. You looked at the floor to arrange your mind. Calmness flooded your face when you glanced back at her.

You still couldn't believe how much you missed her. How much you longed to wake up every morning by her side. To see her preparing lunch past midday. Wearing your shirt and looking at you like you created the whole universe. You missed the slightest touch. The vague rush of your lips when you greeted each other, or her hand on yours when she knew you felt nervous. Even the way she'd grab you when a thunderstorm broke, something you used to hate.

You wished you hadn't seen her. Avoided the pain in your chest when your eyes met her figure. On her knees, praying to God.

Your last thought was that everyone was right. The painting did justice to people. Especially to Joohyun.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

She had always tortured herself for her sexuality, and you knew that because you witnessed it all in front row. It was impossible to make her forget about her roots. You would have given everything to make her accept herself.

You could only watch her from the side. The Father met you to discuss a schedule compatibility issue. You had been asked if you could help with the preparation of an event, and the only reason you accepted was that you owed it to the school. It didn't take long to talk, less than an hour. Surprise hit you when you saw that there was no more sunlight coming through the window. You could tell that winter had come.

The last time you saw her was at the church you attended in high school.

Your guard was down when you registered his presence. Her back was as straight as ever, and it wasn't hard to recognize her form. Dark hair fell over her shoulders, barely reaching her low back. You saw the hands you once held clapped together, and the lips you kissed God knows how many times were begging silently for mercy. She was praying calmly, kneeling in the front row before the statue of Jesus.

You stood still. She left you still. That power she had and always will present, and you resented her for it. A grimace deformed your mouth and your eyes were screaming to be closed. You couldn't blink for so long that they burned, but you weren't sure if it was because of that or because the tears were already forming. At some point, in the middle of your trance, you got up.

Her breath was slightly labored, as if she wanted, about to do something but was debating if it was the right thing to do.

And then you saw it, the mirror that the two of them always made fun of. Why did they want a mirror in the middle of the altar, anyway? And you condemned yourself for directing your gaze at it. Joohyun's eyes reflected directly to yours. The air in her lungs escaped through her mouth. Neither of you had a clue on what to do. No more than ten seconds passed with both your eyes locked.

Vulnerability hit you when she turned around. A hidden strength made you look directly at her. She picked up her things and then took a deep breath. Her gaze met the floor for a moment, then it fell on you. Everything you felt was reflected. The longing and the loneliness marked her eyebags and she looked more tired than normal.

The time stopped for a moment. You saw tears threatening to come out of her eyes and you could swear that the grimace on her mouth was an attempt to smile.

You mirrored her. You gave her the biggest of your smiles. With salty tears streaming down your cheeks. And even though you already knew it wasn't possible, you tried to make her happy one last time.

It didn't work. You couldn't figure out what she was feeling. It looked like nostalgia, but it was mixed with a sense of joy. She looked at you for the last time before walking out. You wanted to call her, you wanted to tell her that you were sorry and that you were every day without her was horrible.

You were left behind again, only one beat was enough to erase the sorrow from your heart.

#red velvet #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #red velvet reactions #joohyun #bae joohyun #irene #bae irene #irene scenario #irene imagine #angst

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turbulentt · 5 years

Text

Just Friends

genre: smut | mingyu × fem!reader

word count: +2.6k

warnings: size-kink, dirty talk, explicit content, unprotected sex, public sex

sumary: you and your psych classmate, kim mingyu, have been friends for a while now and you start to doubt your feelings towards the boy. after testing his limits at his friend’s party, mingyu proves to you that, in fact, you have a crush on the taller boy.

“I’m telling you! It will work.” Mingyu said confident, truly full of himself.

“I don’t believe until I see it. I still think you’re going to get a straight no,” you said playfully while walking through the hallways with the taller man by your side.

Mingyu was sure he could trick one of his friends into hosting a party this weekend, one he already stated he didn’t want to host for like six times, using a luring strategy that you both learned in psych class.

You both walked to the group of boys in the corner of the cafeteria and you could see how people looked at both of you. It wasn’t very surprising though, you have already heard the rumors that roam in the hallways about you and Mingyu being a couple. For you, your relationship was like any other, classmates who casually became friends. Nothing more, right? Well, denying you don’t find him attractive would be a lie, but you don’t really think he’s into you, so you just keep yourself in the same zone of your friendship.

Finally approaching the group of boys you are the first one to be greeted. For some reason, Mingyu’s friends liked you the very moment Mingyu presented you to them. And, thinking about that, you don’t really get why he introduced you to his friends since the two of you are just casual friends that don’t even hang out that much.

“Okay, I get it. She replaced me.” Mingyu faked pouted and turned to Seungcheol. “Hyung.”

“No.” Seungcheol was quick and effective with his response.

“I told you.” you laughed by Mingyu’s side but he just shushed you.

“Just listen to me.” he sat by his side and the elder looked at him with curiosity. “It is not just a regular party. If it was, even I would host it. I’m asking you to do it because it is good for you. You need the status, Hyung.” Mingyu was looking him straight in the eyes and his hands were moving according to his words.

You had to admit, you were quite impressed. He was really using what you had learned in class. His posture struck dominance, one important point to make him win the argument. Mingyu also used the ‘need’ strategy, which is pretty effective when you want someone to be convinced of something. And his hand gestures resembled confidence in what he was saying. You took a quick look at Seungcheol and there was when you knew. Mingyu won the argument.

“You can always say no like you’ve been doing. But I really wanted to explain to you why I’ve been so committed to getting you to host the party.” and there was his final strike. Shit, why did this sudden burst of confidence made him look so hot?

“Fine. I guess you’re right. I’ll host the party.” Seungcheol sighed and laughs could be heard all around the table. “This Friday at eleven. You’re helping me,” he stated and everyone agreed.

Mingyu looked at you from across the table and winked. You rolled your eyes at the boy and felt your phone vibrate. How obnoxious could he be? You were both on the same table but he decided to text you.

Mingyu: I hope you have smth good to wear this Friday

You: Why?

Mingyu: Bc u’re going to the party with us

You: And why would I go?

Mingyu: Bc u want to

You just looked at him with a ‘Really?’ expression for trying to use a psychological trick with you. He just smiled and tilted his head mouthing a ‘Don’t you?’.

You: Sorry, that one doesn’t work with me

Mingyu: Okay, what if I tell u that I want u to go?

You: U do?

Mingyu: Actually I do. Really badly

You just stood there looking at the last text he sent, your heart started racing inside your chest and your breathing was becoming heavier. Since when did he make you feel like that?

Mingyu: Y/N? Why r u blushing?

Defeated by his smugness you just stood up and headed off while quickly saying goodbye to everyone. You had to find something to wear to the party.

[The next friday]

You were standing by Seungcheol’s door regretting your decisions. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have come. You can always go back. You’re not the party type, that should be obvious for everyone. But, on the other hand, Mingyu has been so excited to see you there. He even texted you the entire day making sure you’d go. You can’t ruin his expectations now. So you just rang the doorbell and waited until the door opened. It burst open and a happy Soonyoung appears.

“Hi,” you said a little shy.

But the older boy just stood there, with his mouth wide open and a famine expression. You then remembered what you were wearing. He must have been struck by your see-through top that showed your black lace bralette.

“H-Hi… Y/N.” his voice sounded shaky and he just looked down while giving space to let you in.

There were already a lot of people in the house, even though it was still early. You looked around, looking for the host. When you found him, you just walked to him. As you passed through, people looked. Guys, girls, everyone was eyeing you from the bottom to the top.

“Cheol Oppa!” you called and he turned to you smiling instantly. “The party is amazing.” you complimented.

“Thank you, Y/N. You look amazing.” he took your hand and made you spin around to look at you. “Are you this beautiful for Mingyu?” he laughed.

“W-what? No. No.” you choked with your own words “I just…” you couldn’t explain, maybe you really were dressed up for him. To make him notice you. “Do I have a crush on Mingyu?” you thought to yourself.

“It’s okay. I was just kidding.” Seungcheol laughs even more “But, just in case you want to know. He’s by the kitchen handling the drinks.” he looks at you with a suggestive look and you just ignore his dirty thoughts while heading to the kitchen. Mingyu was the only person you had more intimacy at that party, even though his friends always took you so well you always felt more comfortable next to him.

As you enter the place the first thing you do is to search for the boy that kept wandering in your thoughts. You spot him next to the beer machine while talking to some random people. You were about to take a step further, however, something stopped you from doing it. A girl was clinging onto his arm, he didn’t seem too comfortable with the girl’s action, but nor did he tried to back up from her touch. Furiously, you take the first drink available and get out of the kitchen before combusting.

“I’m so mad, really mad.” you think to yourself, trying to find a quiet spot to drink without being bothered “Why am I mad though? Am I jealous?” that thought just hits your head like a truck and there you realize what had been tormenting you lately “Fuck, I like him.” you slap your own forehead after listening to your own words.

“Who do you like?” you hear a voice approach, his voice “Hm?” Mingyu’s body was dangerously next to yours and you could already feel his hot breath. You decide not to answer, it would be too much of an embarrassment trying to find an excuse and fail while stuttering. He smirks and raises your head gently by your neck, so he can look at you. You feel intimidated by him, not in a bad way. You feel intimidated at how well his body heat felt. At how strong and tall he was and how easily he could just pick you up at that exact moment and make you his’. “What do you need, Y/N?” Mingyu’s raspy voice whispered next to your ear “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

How could he be such a smug without even trying hard? How could he make your heart feel like it could explode anytime? How could he be so damn handsome standing right in front of you with that infernal gaze?

“I-I…” you couldn’t form words, it felt like your body was pleading for him, but you knew you had to resist the temptation “I need to go.”

You quickly swift away from the taller boy leaving him behind with a frustrated and confused expression.

That party wasn’t even near to be over and you already were a mess. “It’s better to go home.” you think looking back at where you left Mingyu. When your eyes met his’ he just winks and smirks once again. You blush violently and go out the front door with no hesitation.

[The next monday]

“I’m sorry, Cheol. Something happened and I really needed to head off earlier,” you explain yourself to the guy in front of you and he just shrugs. He knew something wasn’t adding up, but he wouldn’t pressure you since he doesn’t really want to bother you. He just left for his class.

The class finally starts and you can feel Mingyu’s burning eyes on you the entire time. He was doing it on purpose because he knows it bothers you and you can’t focus properly when you know someone is watching. On a normal day, you would’ve been mad, but the only thing you could do was blush as look away from him, trying hard no to think of him.

The class seemed endless, like minutes turned into hours, and you could only feel your frustration grow bigger. The teacher sounded more tedious than he ever did and you haven’t been so uninterested in psychology like yo are today. “Fuck you, Mingyu. Get out of my head.” you sigh letting your head rest on the table.

“Class dismissed.” the teacher announces and you couldn’t be happier to hear it. You try to grab your stuff as quickly as possible to exit the classroom, but the more desperate you became to grab things the more clumsy you got. Everyone was almost out when you finally got everything you needed. As you were walking through the door a strong hand pulls you back inside and forces you into the wall.

“Are you going to run away from me again?” he blocked your sides so you wouldn’t have a wait out and lowered his face to meet yours “Are you afraid of me, baby girl?” he bites your earlobe seductively and you let out a small sigh.

“M-Mingyu… I d-don’t.” you try to say but as soon as you feel his big hands grab you by your ass you give in.

“Don’t try to deny me. I know you like me.” he tightens his grip and places wet kisses in your neck “I like you too, baby girl. And I’ve dying to fuck you,” he confesses and you hold your breath surprised. He lifts you up by your ass, pinning you to the wall so you can finally be at the same level as him. “But you’re so small…” Mingyu’s thumb slightly caresses your bottom lip and you just smile at his action “I’m afraid I might break you.”

“Don’t be.” you finally speak up “Break me apart. Fuck me hard.” you moan out in expectation leaving him speechless. But it doesn’t take him to much time to come back to the real world and hungrily take your lips into a heated kiss. As you’re kissing you feel him walk to the nearest table and sitting there. You break apart from the kiss only to start leaving small bites in his neck and desperately looking for his belt.

“You’re so eager for my cock, Y/N.” he throws his head back in amusement and you bite your lip looking at him with innocent eyes. He stares back at you and you can feel the bulge in his pants grow bigger, he was as eager as you. Without wasting any more time you take his pants off, kneeling in front of him and being face to face with his covered erection.

“It looks so… big.” you think to yourself while licking your lips, it must taste really good. Rapidly you free him from his boxers and his bulge sprung to life with full power. “You’re so big…” it’s the only thing you can say after seeing the boy’s cock “Will he fit inside of me?” is the first thought to come to your head.

“Can you take it, baby girl?” he asks gently caressing your cheek “I know you can.” he encourages you to keep going, he really needed to feel your soft lips around him. So you started shy, licking his tip earning some low moans, but, not satisfied, you decided to take it into your mouth as much as you could. Mingyu let out a loud moan and his large hand gripped your hair tightly making you close your eyes. What you couldn’t take in your mouth you pleasured with your hands and you knew how much Mingyu was enjoying it, you could feel how warm and how much his length was pulsing inside of your mouth. “You feel so… so good. Fuck… Y/N.” he moans helplessly.

His grip starts to lose strength and you know he his seconds from coming, so you just deep throat him the best you can. After a long and husky moan, you feel his liquid slide down your throat, swallowing every bit of it while making eye contact with him.

“You’re over now.” Mingyu picks you up and lays you on the table “I hope your little pussy can take me as well as your mouth did.” he groaned undressing you as quick as he could. He hops on the table and lays right on top of you. Again, you felt intimidated, maybe he was right about breaking you. But you were also thirsty for his cock and you couldn’t deny it. Mingyu slides one of his hands through your wet heat and smirks “Is this all for me? So wet…”

He takes his fingers to his mouth and licks them staring straight into your eyes.

“Stop teasing me…” you begged. Not wanting to wait anymore either, Mingyu took his length and placed it in your entrance slowly sliding in, as he also felt like it was quite difficult. “O-Oh fuck…” you moaned loudly.

“You’re so tight, baby…” he panted burying his face in your neck after successfully fully entering you “… but you feel so damn good.” he gave an unexpected thrust and you screamed out his name. “Fuck…” he seemed aroused at the way his name exited your lips.

You slightly moved your hips looking for contact and Mingu started moving. Unlike his kind and sweet self, Mingyu was being rough and going hard. You felt like you were seeing stars and his name kept slipping through your lips “M-Mingyu… Ah yes… Like that…”

Motivated by your pleas, the boy kept hitting you roughly right in your sweet spot, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “Hard… Oh fuck, G-Gyu…” you scratched his back trying not to pass out from so much pleasure.

“Shit, Y/N… I’m coming…” he breathed out, giving his lasts thrusts into you with all the strength he got “Y/N..” he moans low next to your ear after releasing all his liquid inside of you. You cum right after screaming his name so loud that probably the entire university heard it. Mingyu gets out of you slowly and helps you stand up.

“We need to do this more often.” you chuckle dressing yourself up.

“Oh definitely, baby.” he slaps your ass jokingly while watching you walk away from the classroom.

#kpop #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #smut

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