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merlintheactor · 1 month

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Yeah okay so I scrolled through the alexithmyia tag and I don’t think it has this in any recent posts. I tend to be very dynamic while explaining stuff, so I’ll try and add that to the list

So, my aspiring students, what is this thing that you’ve probably never heard of, and why am I telling you about it?

Well, first let’s explain what it is. In the broadest possible sense, alexithmyia is basically a null condition. (Such as asexual, agender, aromantic) What I mean is it’s something describing the lack of something, which in this case is emotion. Alexithmyia is the inability to describe emotions or in some cases, not even feel them properly.

Have you ever experienced things like burning rage, or butterflies in your stomach, or the coiled rope of guilt deep in your stomach, or panic in your throat?

Alexithmeics (?) don’t have that. Or some do, it’s complicated. We’ll get to it.

I’m not a professional, this is all just my (and others) lived experience but I’ve seen the condition broken down into two categories, cognitive & affective. I saw this first on the reddit community for alexithmyia but I like it so I’m yoinking it.

Mu main source for this is an article by Zoe Blade (http://notebook.zoeblade.com/Alexithymia.html). It has sources, and is generally a better breakdown than what I’m going to do. Please check it out, it’s very good.

I’m writing my own thing on tumblr because most people won’t find it on reddit, don’t use it, or just won’t click a link on a random post. Itll probably sound very similar.

Cognitive alexithmyia is basically the original definition , where people with it have a great deal of difficulty describing their emotions. Sometimes it takes time to study the emotion, or sometimes you find out what the emotion was days later. This one isn’t really my lived in experience, but I have felt it occasionally.

Affective alexithmyia is the second definition, which I am a part of (yay!). It’s the inability to feel emotions on a visceral level. The way I’ve described it before is that metaphors about emotions don’t apply to me. I have never felt burning rage, I have never felt my stomach have butterflies, only once have I felt proper guilt.

This is mainly gonna focus on the second, because it’s the one I have.

Affective alexithmyia is complicated, as is anything that describes a null. I’m going to break it down into questions. So, in my best attempt to break it down, let’s begin.

How do you experience things like emotions, then? Are you unfeeling?

Yes and no. Affective alexithmyia means you can’t really feel things on a conscious level. As said before,the whole metaphor things about emotions don’t hit me. They’re just words. I usually have to infer how I feel from my body; if I listening to music, which I do enjoy, I can feel like bopping to the music, tapping my foot to the beat, stuff like that. From that, I can infer I’m enjoying it. If I’m very snappish and rude and it’s around six pm, I can usually tell it’s because I’m either overwhelmed from work, or I haven’t ate. If I read a hateful message, or a sad one, I can simply ignore it. I don’t feel angry. I can look forward to deleting the message, but I don’t get any emotion from it itself.

This is all to say that I’m not unfeeling, usually. I can express emotions, but they don’t come out the same way as everyone else, nor am I usually aware of them. Sometimes, I can just not feel emotions. I went to my mother’s funeral, and didn’t shed a single tear, not really feel the loss. This is to say it really depends. Sometimes my emotions don’t manifest, sometimes they do. The overarching point is that alexithmiacs with the affective side of things experience things almost fundamentally different to most people.

I am basically incapable of holding a grudge. What little emotion I do feel fades quickly, like a summer storm. I can’t be angry at someone for more than like an hour, most.

Why does this matter? How does it affect things?

Well, having the condition of alexithymia can cause a hell of a lot of social problems, especially as it’s usually paired with things like autism. People don’t generally like unemotive people. They’re hard to read and understand which can lead to a harder social life, harder times relating to people, hell even parenting. I haven’t conducted any research, obviously, but there’s a chance not having a broad social life might not really matter to people with alexithmyia. It doesn’t to me, anyway.

It can also lead to internal problems, physical or emotional. Because your signals aren’t properly getting to your brain, you can have issues with feeling hunger or thirst, bowels or bladder. You’ll probably still feel the signals, but only when your body is screaming at you. I wouldn’t say this is a uniquely alexithmyia related issue as, like I said, it’s comorbid with a lot of neurodivergent conditions. This could be due to ADHD, or autism, etc. it also leads to motivational problems, at least for me. I can’t feel invested in things easily. I’m always aware that I’m reading a book, playing a game, and when it comes to being creative, it’s hard to put my pen to paper.

On an emotional level, like I said, it can cause social problems. I personally don’t experience things like most people. It can make me seem cold and unfeeling. It can also lead to a lot of questioning and mental problems, because I mean. You’re fundamentally different to your peers. That will screw you up. It’s why alexithmyia needs more study and needs to be better known.

Things like raising kids and having partners is also pretty hard, from what I’ve seen. How does one understand a kid’s emotions when you don’t experience any? Some links for parenting are here, here and here. Partner links are here, here and here.

It also matters because I, god mage of everything, decided it does. Can’t refute that, now can you!

How does one get alexithmyia? When does it affect you?

My understanding is it’s broadly a genetic thing. I have it, my dad has it. It can also apparently be caused by trauma, repressing of emotions.

Does it manifest in kids? No idea. I was a fairly bubbly kid, apparently, but that changed as I started to approach teenage hood. I assume it has something to do with signals being too weak to reach the body, similar to depression with serotonin and adhd, but I have no clue. I haven’t done detailed research.

How does this affect creativity? Are you all maths people?

No. Much like anyone else, we have a variety of jobs and desires. There are actors with alexithmyia, writers, scientists etc. no one is bound to one job because of their conditions. I am bad at maths, I like writing and acting. I know another who doesn’t really read or watch things too often but loves maths and wants to do farming.

People are unique, no matter what.

Who’s got alexithmyia in media?

Far as I’m aware? No one. No characters have my condition. I assume it’s due to a few factors.

One, this is very unknown. You can’t write something you’ve never heard about, at least not intentionally.

Two, it’s extremely difficult to write someone with an inability to feel emotions. Characters are often emotionally different. Can you imagine FitzChivalry without his rage and emotion, or Kaladin without his deep sense of honour, drive for change and depression?

I hope to one day write a story with an alexithmyic character, but it’s a long way off.

Conclusion

Alright, finished! If you have questions, send me an ask or something. I’ll try and answer.

Please note a lot of these links, all of them except for Zoe’s, are anecdotal. There are a few science links within the subreddit itself, and Zoe has a lot of sources for her stuff. I’m not going to do a research kind of post until I have a firm grasp of said research. This is merely my experience, and people who exist on reddit because that’s the only place I’ve found an alexithmyia community.

I’m also interested in hearing from creatives about this stuff, and how it affects your work. God knows it affects mine.

#alexithmyia #Alexithmyia Archives #since I might do this more often.#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #and I think those are the relevant tags.#I look forward to seeing your take on this post Derin

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cleolinda · 2 years

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Story time: yard chaos

[I told this story on Twitter today, 11/29/22, because I like to be as dramatic and ominous as possible.]

Friends, you may be aware that I often tell Neighborhood Gothic tales about the happenings on my street. I have another one.

So yesterday I look out the kitchen window and see about 15-20 fluorescent-vested workers (who do they work for? We just don’t know) hanging out about 1-2 houses down. Just chilling on both sides of the street, sitting on the storm drain, in the yards, what have you.

And they are more than welcome to; I just don’t know why. Tons of trucks around. Including multiple USIC trucks: People What Identify Your Underground Utilities. You may remember that I ran into one while I was tripping on yard nightshade. Good people, necessary, ideal.

I go about my business (cleaning out my tea kettle). Sometime later, loud machine noises. Bear in mind that I live in an area where there is always someone working loudly on something. Cutting down dangerous trees (RIP🌲), building new houses, eternally landscaping. I shrug.

I look out the window again. The corner of my neighbor’s yard is thoroughly dug up. Now, this summer, I watched a man cut down a whole-ass tree and every single bush (including two beautiful gardenias) of hers branch by branch. There are naught but stubs now.

Am I now that old lady who peers out the window at the doings of the street? Yes. Do I know Debra’s life? No. Do I have any idea why twenty workers are needed to dig up one corner of her yard? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Some hours later, my mom comes home for lunch. She is INCANDESCENT with rage. I assume it’s because our street is clogged with trucks. Why u mad tho? “WHY AREN’T YOU MAD?” After some confusion, my mom gets it through my placid head that the workers

are digging up

OUR YARD

I hadn’t looked out the FRONT window; our dog had been asleep and hadn’t needed to go out. There are three GIANT HOLES, like 3x3 and half a grave deep, at the street end of our yard, like prairie dog holes from hell. Nobody said FUCK ALL to me about this.

My mom’s higher self is a capable, savvy woman who knows her worth. My mom’s shadow self is a Karen. She marches out there to ask what the FUCK is going on. A foreman steps forward. “Oh, they didn’t put a letter on your door?” NO!!!!

I can’t tell if this [a tweet that did not in fact go through] went through or not, because they keep cutting off the wifi. There is a crane over my street now

What is GOING ON, asks my mom. “Something about fiber optic cables,” the foreman says. SOMETHING?? “Something about phones.” IN 2022??? We Just Don’t Know.

Holes begin to spread up the street.

By sundown, every single yard upstreet of mine has a minimum of three deep pits exposing Unknown Cables. Turf has been skinned off and thrown aside. I’m just like, this might as well happen. My mom now has a contractor’s business card. Neighbors are mad. Nobody was warned.

I’m out with Cooper on the deck (where he likes to chase falling leaves) in the dimming sunlight, and I happen to look around at the street.

Water is cascading down the road.

I live on a hill. You know how it looks during a hard rain, just little wavelets washing down the road? That. Water pouring down the entire width of the street, gutter to gutter. The deluge has already reached the intersection and shows no sign of stopping.

My phone has no wifi.

The Workers from Somewhere have hit a water main up the street. In front of a lawyer’s house, I’m told, so have fun with that. What I learn later is, despite there being 3-4 USIC trucks on the street, no one ever marked any utilities. Somebody told the workers not to wait.

Birmingham Water Works trucks, flashing their lights in the darkness, show up at 9 pm to fix the busted water main. Neighbors are wandering around fretting that the Great Flood of ‘22 is going to show up on their utility bills. The lawyer is very popular.

I get up this morning. By 6 am, they are back out there, doubling down. This is not the workers’ fault, btw. Honest day’s work, dishonest employer.

Every single house on my side of the street has a minimum of four (4) fiber optic prairie dog pits now.

I don’t know WHAT and I don’t know WHY. And now, there is a crane over my street for something happening underground. Orange cones and a giant wheel of orange and blue cable have appeared. Someone is brandishing a rake. End transmission for now.

UPDATE: The crane is ripping out a small tree (RIP 🌳) near the top of the street. I do not know if this is related or not. Either shit just got real with the cable digging, or we have dueling contractors.

[Situation in progress, more later]

#story time with cleo #long post #text post #as told on twitter #wet chaos 2022

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deliriously-dazed · 12 days

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Title: Solace in Storms (Solace in You)

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Content warnings: Suicide mentions on courtesy of Dazai (brief and none-explicit) Characters: Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo Ship: Dazai x Ranpo (Can be read as Pre-slash or platonic) Prompt used : Cry into chest Summary: A thunderstorm rages, and Ranpo is going through some things. Dazai is there. Word count: 1750 Ao3: Solace in Storms (Solace in You)

For @badthingshappenbingo and @littie-hun, who wished for some Souheki content! I hope it's alright, and thank you for the request! <3

The roar of fierce thunder submerges the city of Yokohama. Violent flashes of lightning slash across the sky, followed by deep rumbles of thunder that reverberate through the air and seem to rattle the walls. The rain pours down in torrents, relentless in its mission to drown the city—splatters against the rooftops, the streets, and against the windows. The outside world is a blur, lost and trembling in a haze of water and wind.

11:41 pm. The red numbers of Dazai’s clock, generously gifted to him by Kunikida a year or so ago, read out. Dazai lies, comfortably spread on his futon in the modesty of his dorm. Listens as the storm rages outside. He finds a comforting solace in the chaos— in the howling wind, the power of thunder, and the persistent patter against his window.

Dazai’s been half-reading and half-day-dreaming for the last hours, letting his mind wander in usual and comfortable directions. He’s in the middle of indulging in the double-suicide fantasy he’s got when the first soft knock descends upon his door. Easily, he brushes the sound off due to the storm, maybe some branches being thrown around by the wind or a shift in the building.

The second knock makes him hesitate. Dazai slowly sits up, frowning. It doesn’t make sense for anyone to visit him at this hour, especially in this weather. It’s not like his colleagues to drop by unannounced—lest Dazai does something to merit such a visit, though this week has found him especially behaved so—

The knocking comes again, more forceful this time. Curious but cautious, he swings his legs over his futon's side and treads to the door. Flicking the lock, Dazai opens it just enough to peek outside through the crack.

In the dimly lit hallway stands Ranpo. Soaked through, clothes clinging to his frame, and dripping water onto the floor. Dark, wet hair plaster against his forehead. His hat is missing, alongside his usual confident, sometimes even arrogant posture. What strikes Dazai the most is the look in Ranpo’s wide-open eyes, anxious and desperate… lost.

“O’well, you certainly look like a wet kitten in need of adoption,” Dazai says, blinking at the sight. He opens the door wider, wondering why Ranpo is at his door in this state and not Yosano’s. Or Kunikida’s. Or Atsushi’s. Or Kenji’s. Actually, anyone but Dazai, because he is very much the worst at comforting others. His initial reluctance to do just that is palpable, making the air surrounding them tense. However, Ranpo chose to come here—Dazai will just have to do what he can, even if he’s terrible at it.

Instead of voicing that particular concern, though legitimate, Dazai continues rambling, “—which there’s nothing wrong with, by the way. I was just thinking about adopting one, so you, Ranpo-san, will do just fine. Now, come in before you freeze to death.”

Because, contrary to popular belief, Dazai has a heart, and it’s not like he’s going to send the older man—currently looking very much younger—away.

Ranpo doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move either, despite Dazai’s invitation. He just stands there, lips slightly parted, watching Dazai through rarely observed brown eyes. Glazed over and shiny, yet still very pretty with the long lashes framing them.

“Ranpo-san?” Dazai asks, voice softer now, genuine concern replacing the playfulness. He gestures for the other to enter, “Come inside.”

The detective hesitates for a few seconds as if considering the possibility of leaving. His gaze shifted to the wall beside Dazai, then trail to the floor. A faint blush creeps across Ranpo’s cheekbones. Embarrassed or maybe ashamed? It may as well be a product of the unmistakable chill seeping into Ranpo’s bones, racking his body with shivers.

Just as Dazai is about to speak up again, Ranpo shuffles past Dazai and into the small dorm. As soon as he’s inside, Dazai closes the door behind them, the rumbling of thunder and howl of wind fading into background noise.

Neither of them speak for a moment. Dazai lets the situation settle and wills the unease to release from his shoulders with a deep breath. He can handle whatever this is. It doesn’t matter that he genuinely sucks at taking care of people. He shows care in other ways. Relentless teasing and such things. He’s quite good at figuring things out as he goes without a plan though, which is a perfect skill for his current situation.

Looking Ranpo over once again, he falters immediately. The detective is in the middle of his room, arms tightly wrapped around himself, head down towards the floor, and god—Dazai’s heart hurts just a tiny bit at the sight. Ranpo is heartbreakingly adorable. The thought makes Dazai feel a little bad, because his friend is obviously not okay, and Dazai should perhaps focus on that. The internal struggle is evident, most likely some defense mechanism of his. A reluctance to handle the complex emotions stirring within him, making his focus turn to what’s simple. And what is simple is focusing on just how adorably kitten-like Ranpo currently looks. He seriously can’t help it.

“Right,” he says, breaking himself out of his ‘Ranpo is adorable, and that’s a fact’ spiral—because, focus, “Right. Okay, let's get you warm and dry, hm?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just grabs a towel from his bathroom, digs some clothes out of his dresser, making sure to get the charcoal hoodie he knows Ranpo likes before returning to his friend's side. He holds the items out, watching as Ranpo takes them with trembling hands, a confused frown etched vulnerably onto his face. “I’ll make us some tea while you change, alright?”

Ranpo agrees with a weak nod, still staying silent. Though, he doesn’t need to say anything. Dazai sees the tension in his shoulders, knows by that alone that there’s something else going on besides the storm. The way Ranpo flinches at a particularly loud crack in the sky gives Dazai some insight. That, and the fact that Fukuzawa isn’t in the city this week.

His eyes trail Ranpo as the older heads for the bathroom to change, concern tightening his chest. He isn’t used to this. Isn’t used to seeing Ranpo so small and vulnerable… fragile, even. Dazai stands there for a while before he moves to the kitchenette, setting a kettle to boil over the stove. He prepares two mugs, adding a decent amount of honey into both. The warm steam from the kettle does little to ease the worry gnawing at him.

When the tea is ready, five or so minutes later, Ranpo is still in the bathroom. The shuffling sounds Dazai could hear before have ceased. He places the mugs on the coffee table in front of his small two-seater sofa on the way over to the bathroom. Softly taps the door with his knuckles. It isn’t locked, but he figures letting Ranpo have autonomy over the space is best. Respecting his boundaries and such.

The tension seeps out of Ranpo, and his limbs go boneless. A second later, Dazai finds himself with an armful of Ranpo and, needing to shift, fully sits down on the floor to brace both their weights. “Alright, yeah, okay… yeah, that’s fine,” he mumbles, quiet and soft, bringing one arm to rest around Ranpo, the other working to pull up the charcoal hood, conjuring some feel of some phantom protection for the other. Dazai doesn’t know why he does it. Only that Ranpo prefers hiding away from the world when he gets like this. And Dazai only knows that, or rather, he assumes it, solely one the fact he’s never actually witnessed Ranpo in this sort of state.

A quiet hum answers him. (See, maybe Dazai isn’t so bad at this after all.). Taking it as the affirmation it is, Dazai enters to find Ranpo cross-legged on the floor, certainly looking dryer than before, though not that much better. “Hey,” he says, kneeling down. He brushes a few damp streaks from the detective’s forehead, feeling warmth radiating off his skin. Instead of shying away, as Dazai feared, knowing of Ranpo’s occasional aversion to touch – Ranpo leans in. At first, it’s a miniscule movement, barely noticeable. Then skin meets skin, the tip of Dazai’s fingers to Ranpo’s warm temple, and the older completely melts into the touch.

He’s seen the detective in a vast array of moods and feelings. Basically watched as confidence and pride ooze out of him when showing off his deduction, only to deal with the man’s grouchy attitude a short few hours later because of a broken coffee machine. (All while Ranpo doesn’t even drink coffee, but apparently, the machine’s chocolate powder container had been empty.)

Still, Dazai’s seen the man hurt and angry, annoyed and childish, seen him flustered and awkward, happy and excited. But this—Dazai hasn’t ever seen Ranpo like this. It’s a new level of vulnerability he’s being trusted with. Trusted to handle adequately… respond to. Dazai is everything but reliable, isn’t sure he trusts himself with the task.

But when Ranpo buries his face, impossibly deep into his neck, his response comes naturally enough. His hand moves over Ranpo’s back in a soft pattern.

Soft assurances are whispered into the dark charcoal hood. Phrases like ‘You’re okay.’, ‘Just breathe.’ and ‘Everything’s fine.’ fall from Dazai’s lips. He barely needs to think about what he says. Only desiring to comfort the other. When fingers grip tightly at the fabric over his chest, squeezing repeatedly, Dazai murmurs, “It’s alright, I got you.”

And Ranpo barely makes a sound as he cries. Dazai can only tell by the tears sliding down his neck, soaking the hem of his shirt, and occasional hiccups interrupting the rhythm of Ranpo’s breathing. Dazai doesn’t know how long they sit like that, but eventually, he feels Ranpo take a few shuddering breaths. Shortly after, the tears stop soaking his shirt as the detective falls into a sleepy haze.

Dazai ends up carrying him to his futon, carefully putting him down. Thinking Ranpo is still far into dreamland, he turns away, about to go clean up. A hand grasps his, pulls. Dazai lets it happen, seeing no reason to refuse, nor wanting to. He goes willingly, and the next second, Dazai is back to the same place and position as before. In bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling. The difference is that he's not alone anymore.

Looking to the side, the red numbers past Ranpo's sleeping form read 12:48 am. The storm rages on the same, and Ranpo shamelessly curls up against Dazai’s side.

Before succumbing to sleep himself, Dazai notes, somewhat hazily, that suicide, double or not, doesn't seem half as intruiging as it did an hour ago.

Thanks for reading <33 //Daze

#bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd #bad things happen bingo #hurt/comfort #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x dazai #bsd comfort #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #bsd fic #my writing #cry into chest #badthingshappenbingo

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blueroses789 · 2 years

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From Green to Blue

Chapter 17: Blurred and buried

Next chapter: Reopening old wounds

Warnings:

Angst

Smut

Mental health crisis

MDNI: 18 plus

Note: Sorry for the long delay! School running me over right now.

It was like the door was opening into a great chasm. A great gust of wind seemed to greet you.

Maybe it was just your imagination, but a storm seemed to be brewing behind that door.

Or maybe not.

Seeing Eren’s face caused a chill to go through your body. It wasn’t fear, or even rage, just another douce of numbness. The last time you two came face to face here was when Biannca moved in. All you could think of was Biannca’s essence that had taken over yours. Now it was her things here, she had tarnished every trace of you.

“Hey, do you want me to take that for you?” Eren’s voice wavered slightly. He looked different. His hair had become even longer, hanging limply at his sides.

“Can we come in?” Ignoring what he said, you walked past him. Zeke stopped beside Eren and whispered something you couldn’t make out in his ear.

Walking into this apartment was like entering an empty box. A wind whistled in your ear, filling every space. You seemed to recall a time when this was home. But the memories were blurred and burned.

Feet treated on unfamiliar territory, every step taken with hesitancy, as if expecting a bomb to go off.

The bedroom felt cold. You set down the box.

Could you do it? You knew when you agreed to move in that sharing a bed was an inevitability since there was literally nowhere else to sleep.

The night table on the left side was empty. None of Hannah’s things remained behind. Setting down the box, you headed back to Zeke.

“Should we head out and get the rest?” Eren went to get his coat. You didn’t want him to help.

But right now your voice box seemed unwilling to argue.

It was done in total silence. When your boxes were back in Eren’s room you just stood there.

Where should your things go? You really didn’t want to piss off Eren by placing your things in the wrong place.

“Y/n, do you want my help?” It was like he’d crept up on you.

“Um, yeah. Where should I put my things?”

“Where they were last time.” What you felt wasn’t exactly confusion. Just that you had difficulty processing all of this. Like those years with Eren had never happened.

And how you wished they hadn’t. You couldn’t look back on any memories with fondness, because they were tainted. Kisses and caresses flitted through your mind like a malignant sickness.

“Washroom.” You muttered.

Eren had the good sense not to follow. Zeke, who was in the living room, seemed to think it was best to leave you alone for now.

When the bathroom door closed, the breath you let out was vaguely human. It was rasping, painful and short.

You curled in on yourself, the white walls closing in.

Zeke had stayed for dinner. The unpacking had taken longer than it should have. In the meantime, Zeke made pasta. The three of you sat, with only Zeke talking. Mainly just mundane subjects. You suspected he was just doing this to postpone the awkwardness.

But this temporary reprieve would not last indefinitely. Eventually, Zeke had to head home.

With one last look, he said goodbye.

It was just the two of you.

“I’ll do the dishes.” Eren hastily whisked the plates away. Looking at the clock, you realised it was 10:30 pm. You were ridiculously exhausted.

“Alright. I’m going to bed. Night.” Finally getting into the bed was a blessed relief. Soon you would be asleep and not have to think. The bedroom door was mostly shut, light coming from the moon.

Suddenly everything came back, was familiar. The place you had lived in for years. So many nights you had lay here. You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling. Memories of your last intimate moments with Eren invaded. You weren’t even sure that last time could be considered intimate. The way he seized your hair, careless grasps of the flesh and feeling like a used toy was far from what you considered intimacy.

Cold, you wrapped yourself in the blanket and closed your eyes.

Wether you had dreamed or not was unknown. You had the premonition that your sleep was not wholly untroubled. An uncomfortable chill creeped wracked your spine. Slowly, you rolled over to see Eren with his back facing you, who was still asleep. Silent as a mouse, you slinked out of the bed. Once in the safety of the bathroom you breathed properly.

One thing that had not changed was the oodles of soaps in the bathroom. You were truly spoiled for options.

There was strawberry, cinnamon, lavender and vanilla.

Wait, vanilla? That wasn’t a soap you or Eren regularly used. Screwing open the cap, you took a whiff. Neither you nor Eren wore this scent.

But Hannah did.

The temporary reprieve was cruelly ripped away. Suddenly the bathroom didn’t feel so secure anymore. Placing down the bottle, you went to the kitchen.

Maybe some tea would help you feel better.

The cups were the same. That was until you came across a black cup with white hearts on it, Hannah’s.

Hardly standing to look at it, you tried to avoid looking at it and seized the first cup. The cupboard thumped shut.

As you said waiting for the water to boil, you wondered how many of Hannah’s things lay around the apartment.

By the time Eren woke, you were by the window drinking tea. You didn’t look at him, choosing instead to settle your gaze on the rising sun. The only nice thing about being back was the view. A golden rising sun was just peaking over the horizon. Eren was not any more vocal than you, making his coffee in silence.

“Remember why you are doing this.”

The landline phone rang and Eren went to answer it.

“Who’s calling this early?” You wondered. A few minutes later Eren walked up to you. The look on this face was foreboding.

“Is everything alright?” Your thoughts first went to Carla. Had something happened to her?!

“ No it’s not my mom. Hannah wants to pick up her things today.”

“Good.” Eren looked perplexed at how blaze you were taking this. But the reality was far from the truth. In reality, you just didn’t want to be there for their tearful farewell. As dramatic as it sounded, you don’t really think your heart could take it.

You and Armin sat on the swings, the wind making the chains rattle ever so slightly.

“You're doing okay though, right.” Armin’s hand brushed against yours.

“It’s alright. He hasn’t done anything so far.” Your fingernails scratched the ceramic cup. Armin winced slightly at the light scratching noise, though you didn’t notice.

“So, how's your book going?” You were relieved he left behind the subject of Eren. Armin rummaged around his backpack, pulling out a large, leather bound book. He preferred to be more authentic, saying that it made him feel more intimate with the writing process. You admired his tidy handwriting.

He liked to have you edit his words, something which you were more than happy to comply with.

Armin looked at the girl opposite from him. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Y/n read over his work. Every praise made his cheeks go redder. Though she didn't know it, Y/n was the first person he had shown his work to since highschool. Even Mikasa and Eren weren’t allowed this privilege. Most of the time when someone looked at his work Armin felt a horrible pit in his stomach.

“Hmmm. Armin, I think that writing about fantasy is a bit below your capabilities.”

“This is just…. I mean, Armin, this is an amateurish mistake.”

But those thoughts never came up when he was with Y/n. She had shown a genuine interest when Armin accidently let slip that he liked to write. At first Armin backtracked, saying he was talking about an essay. He really didn’t need someone ripping apart his book. Y/n had dropped it. Two months later Armin had her over at his house and she was looking over some of his books. Armin had an impressive collection, started by his grandfather and namesake. Y/n had picked out a small blue book and started to read. It was only a few hours later that Armin realised, to his horror, it was one of his stories.

And then Y/n looked up and smiled.

“This is really good. Who wrote this?”

From that day on, Armin shaked his stories with her.

“I think you could go into a bit more detail about Catherine’s anger. It’s a bit too brief for such a poignant moment.” Your index finger ran down the page. Armin immediately wrote your suggestion down.

“Did you understand the allegory for Catherine and Persephone?”

“Yes. I actually really liked the way you used imagery to depict that.” Armin beamed.

Suddenly Armin’s face went chalk white.

“Hey, Armin are you alright?” Your hand covered his. Turning around, your heart dropped

It was Annie Leonhart.

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anhourofsleep · 15 days

Text

Favorite Umbrella

I didn’t expect the rain.

All day, the sun was shining its blistering rays. When I left the house, I could feel the heat prickling on my skin, determined to persuade me to just stay inside.

It was Sunday. I can’t stay inside.

So when I went home at 9 PM, grateful for the ride home from my friends, the sudden, strong downpour was not something I wished for. Obviously, this will make it harder for me to go home. But I didn’t want this because I know, deep in the crevices of my short-circuiting brain that I did not bring an umbrella.

The rain was sudden. And it was strong. When it was at the crescendo of its power, I panicked. The sidewalk was clean of waiting sheds (screw poor urban planning, amirite?). I kept moving forward, hoping to find something. Anything, at this point. Because I knew if I don’t, I’ll get soaked and I’ll be miserable.

Shortly after I bet my whole life on just moving ahead and hoping for the best, I found myself in front of a car dealership, with a single, pop-up canopy still up. I hurried along and got under it just in time for the rain to drop like a hot new BINI single (I am not good with analogies).

Fall like rain indeed. With me safe under this tent, I watched as the rain became torrent, generously sharing its water as if everyone in this part of the city has had none for the past few years. It looked like it wasn’t stopping any time soon. I accepted that this was going to take a while, so I paced back and forth under the shade, getting weary as each second went by.

So I just decided to pray. Might as well do something. My bluetooth headphones are dead and I can’t lay down to nap (obviously).

I started reflecting on what’s been happening so far. I feel like I’m at a major fork in the road. I have gone through some, but this feels different. This feels like the moment. Like in the movies where the hero has to choose; the world or his loved one? Do or die, my good sir.

At this fork, my battle within myself rages on. The choice to be happy is hard when melancholy is so comfortable. They say change is the only constant thing in the world. And I’m constantly ignoring its calls.

I’m used to doing things on my own. I don’t care how anyone does it. And it worked for me. Right...?

“Nope. It did not.” I said out loud.

It’s fine. There are no people around and if there were, the rain would be loud enough to mask my voice.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It did not work out for me. I am a mess. I am broken. When I feel like everyone around me is having the time of their life, I am in my own world where the only one speaking is that gloomy blue star in the Mario Movie, going “Everything’s over now and all that’s left is you in an infinite void” over and over again.

And it all happened in an instant. It’s like this sudden downpour, where I am left to just move forward, regardless if I find shelter or not.

I looked for it in a lot of things. Most of it is in the company of people who want me to drink my troubles away. That worked for them, they said. But it’ll be like if I try and ask someone to walk with me in this rain and both of us have no raincoats or umbrellas. I’ll be glad of the company, but we’re both soaked, right?

For a time, I was content in doing this. It’s the familiar. It’s something that made me comfortable because it was my constant. I don’t want to look for a new life. This is it for me. Why should I strive for something better? But I felt it. I felt it in my heart that I have to move forward. Even if I can’t see how I’m going to be okay.

When I was slipping over and over again that made me look like I was just lying down, God held out His hand through the people in this community. When I accepted that this is the peak for me, He told me no and sent out people to help me up.

He doesn’t want me down there. He wants me up because I have a job to finish.

However, He also knows I can’t brave the storm yet. So He guided me to a canopy where I should just sit back and revel in the isolation because He knows I’ll get to know Him more here. He removed me from the world because I’ve been trying too hard to go through it on my own. He provided me shade because He knows that I have yet to acquire my umbrella.

Through the raging torrent, I found shelter. A shelter that I can stay in to wait out the storm and with people who are waiting with me. People isolated from the cruelty of the world, finding solace in God’s protection.

When the rain stops, I’ll be more careful to bring my umbrella next time. If the storm comes again, I’ll use it and maybe help out someone who got caught in the rain and lead them to their canopy. The same way that the people in mine did for me.

For now, let the storm prove its point. I will be waiting here, safe in the shade.

Isaiah 4:5-6

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midnightdevotion · 2 years

Text

It's Always Been You

Prompt: Bob trying to hold your hand and failing miserably.

a/n: I really hope this turns out good, it is 10 pm and I have been tired since 3 pm. Let me know if yall like this! Taglist is open if you want to be added to it.

Bob has had a crush on you for exactly 8 months and 12 days. He's also known you for exactly 8 months and 12 days. Every day, since he met you he swears today, will be the day he asks you out or does anything just something to make a move. So far it hasn't ever been true. He just sees you and loses all composure. He feels like he's back to being that awkward 13-year-old boy with clammy hands and a shirt that hangs off his body.

It wasn't so bad when the team didn't also know about his raging crush on you. That only lasted two weeks though before the rest of the crew was putting it together. He really tried to keep his love-struck gaze more secret but he's never been very good at hiding things.

He's startled from his thoughts as hangman grabs his shoulder, "you know bob you should really just make a move already" smirk already in place.

"I-" bob sighs "if only it were that easy" he mumbled back out.

"it can be that easy, just go up to her and say you're madly in love with her, and bam it's done" Bob only rolled his eyes at this idea, because of course hangman, carved like a greek god and got anything he wanted would see it this way. You were too perfect, too amazing for him to just walk over and give some cheesy overused line.

Hangman sighs "look bob, you might not see it but she looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky, just make a damn move already so we don't have to watch you both pine over each other all the god damn time" with that he walks away, back towards the pool tables to talk some more shit to rooster.

Bob groans, putting his head down on his forearms. Why can't he be as confident as hangman or as easy-going as rooster. Life would be so much easier if he could just get out of his awkward mind for a few minutes.

After a few more minutes of miserably laying on top of the bar, he lifts his head and finishes his beer. He looks over to see you grinning with phoenix, he can't help the small smile that grows on his face at you two having fun.

_________

You look up from your conversation with phoenix to see bob with the sweetest smile on his face. Blushing you try to avoid phoenix's gaze because now is so not the time to be blushing about bob.

"See!! you look at him and get all smiley and blushy! just ask him out already!" you groan because of course she noticed and of course, it was just after a fifteen-minute lecture about how you two are being stupid and just need to go for it.

"Phoenix I already told you he doesn't feel that way about me! I've tried to ask him out but every time I try to get him alone he finds a way out of it!" you whisper shout back, feeling hurt as you think back to all the times you'd tried to get alone time with bob, it seems as if he hates you. One time you hung back while everyone else went to play another round of pool just to talk to him and suddenly he'd changed his mind and wanted to play again. You ended up leaving early because there was no way you wanted anyone to see you cry.

After remembering all the times you tried to talk to bob, see if he liked you the way everyone swears he does, you didn't feel in a good mood anymore. You could tell phoenix regretted bringing it up, based on your face probably. You've never had a good poker face.

"Hey, I'm just gonna go grab some fresh air okay? I'll be back in a minute" Trying to fake a smile for phoenix's sake, but knowing she could see through you anyways you turned and walked out the door. Sighing as you get outside you breathe in the fresh ocean air, walking halfway down the beach before sitting on the sand. You didn't know bob had watched the whole thing. You definitely didn't know that phoenix stormed up to the confused brunette.

"Bob I swear to god if you don't get your shit together and go talk to y/n. She thinks you hate her because every time she's around you find a way to leave and I don't want to hear about how it's because you're nervous because so is she!" After phoenix's mini-rant, bob sat straighter. You think he hates you? He could never hate you, the minute he saw you he couldn't breathe, the ability to form any sentences was gone, and in its place were clammy hands and heart palpitations. He knew phoenix was right though, if he didn't go out and ask you out tonight he'd lose any chance he had. Even if you didn't want him, he figures it's better to know for sure than to always wonder what could've been.

Standing, bob wipes his hands on his jeans. Blowing out a nervous sign, he looks at phoenix. He knows the look is probably desperate, or just downright pathetic. She looks more sympathetic but she doesn't give him an out, she just pats his back and wishes him luck.

______

He hears you before he fully sees you. Sure he can see some form of a silhouette, but what stands out are the little sniffles that are coming from the slouched person. You look defeated and he hasn't even seen your face yet. He gulps, because if what phoenix said is true, then this is his fault.

"u-um y/n?" he whispers out, not wanting to startle you but also not sure his voice could've come out louder with the amount of nerves he has. He watches your shoulders straighten, the quick dart of your hands to wipe what he can assume is tears off your face. "Is it alright if I sit?" he asks, just as quiet as before. He sees a small nod and that's all he needs. Sitting down beside you he's careful to not sit too close because even though all he wants to do is pull you into a hug and tell you he's sorry for being so damn stupid, he doesn't think that would be his best course of action.

You watch as bob opens and closes his mouth several times before you decide to speak up. "I'm assuming phoenix told you then" you mumble. It would be hard for anyone else to hear but bob hears you like the rest of the world is on mute and you're the only thing he can hear, no matter the distance.

"Yeah, she did. I-" he pauses, letting sand fall through his hands

"it's okay bob, you don't have to say anything" you just want to disappear, why did she have to tell bob you are basically in love with him.

"yes, I do, not saying anything is exactly why we're here" Bob says back, voice stronger this time. He can't just let you think he hates you anymore not when he's literally in love with you.

Great, you think, here's the let me down gently conversation. Of course, bob is going to let you down gently, he's so nice and sweet and perfect he wouldn't do anything malicious even if it does hurt like hell that he doesn't want you.

"y/n I....." he trails off, trying to start the conversation over several times before you groan.

"Bob, can we please skip this part.. I get it, you don't like me back, that's okay I promise I won't make things weird, but we don't have to have the let me down easy we can be friends conversation. I promise it's okay, I am okay." you rush out. eyes stinging with more tears because you weren't okay, and you just wanted to climb in bed and not ever see another person again.

Bob was shocked. You liked him? and you think that he doesn't want you?

"wh-you like me?" the question comes out in a breathy whisper.

You glance over at him to see pure shock. The blood in your veins turns to ice, and you move to get up, almost on autopilot, ready to go shut down for the rest of the weekend and avoid everyone as much as possible. However, bob speaks up before you can fully stand.

"This whole time, I've been terrified that you would never like me back so why say anything, but you thought I hated you?" realization hits you about what phoenix said to bob and you almost laugh at how you outed yourself, she's very clever that phoenix. You don't get the chance to though because your brain processes his words.

"wait... so you like me too?" you watch and bob swallowed, wiping his hands on his jeans, and getting sand everywhere.

"y/n.. I've liked you since I met you, it's always been you." you blush at his words, feeling like you need to pinch yourself because this has to be a dream.

Finding yourself grinning "so are you going to ask me out then?" you feel smug as the crimson creeps into his cheeks.

"would you want to go out-" you cut him off with a "yes!" you both start laughing, maybe it's nervous laughter and maybe it's laughter because you two are so dumb for not talking about this sooner.

It doesn't take long for you two to settle, falling back in the sand and watching the stars together. It takes bob another twenty minutes to work up the nerve to grab your hand or attempt to. You didn't realize he was going for your hand and so you reach up to point out the big dipper right as he reaches for your hand, your momentum sends his hand flying back and it almost hits him in the face.

He groans out loud "c'mon can't something just go my way and not be awkward" you start laughing, feeling bad but also thinking this is exactly why you adore him. Grinning at him you grab his hand and lace your fingers together, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek.

Unaware that the rest of the team was sitting by the window watching the whole scene unfold. The next day when nobody can hold their jokes about bob nearly smacking himself in the face anymore you both realize that there was a whole lot of scheming into getting you both outside that night. You cant find it in you to be mad, not when you have bob holding your hand now.

#robert bob floyd #top gun maverick #top gun #robert floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader

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rebelliousstories · 2 years

Text

Late Night Reassurance

Relationship: Elvis Presley x Reader, Austin!Elvis x Reader

Fandom: ELVIS (2022)

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Insecurities

Word Count: 1,322

Main Masterlist: Here

Elvis/Austin Butler Masterlist: Here

Summary: Everyone needs to be comforted every now and then.

Summertime in Memphis was an experience. The air was thick with humidity and it only made everything feel hotter. Every afternoon, the humidity was cranked up with daily showers. And on a night like this, the afternoon shower slipped well into the night. The clock read 11:30 PM when she was awoken by a knock at her door. She sat up in her bed, gazing at the door the knock had just come from, but she didn’t turn on the light. The thunder clapped and boomed outside while the lightning provide a brief moment of clarity. Another quiet knock came through.

“Who is it?” She inquired, knowing that everyone in the house had retired several hours ago because of the storm.

“It’s me baby.” He called out. His voice was soft but she still heard him.

“Come on in then.” She replied before putting her head back down onto the pillow beneath her. A quiet creak rang through but was quickly drowned out by the sound of thunder once again. He stepped into the room and she could make out his figure through the flashes of light. His black hair was loose, and a mess. His pajamas hung loosely off his figure. But his face was what got her. He had a far off look in his eyes. He fiddled with his hands and his leg bounced involuntarily as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Elvis,” she called quietly, “come here baby.” She peeled her comforter back and patted the bed. Elvis took that as a sign to climb into her bed. He pulled her into his arms, and felt the tension leave his body. She always had that effect on him. He felt so calm with her, so at peace. The storm raged outside but now with him closer, she got a better look at his face. His eyes were red but there were no tears. He looked tired, like their was something weighing heavily on him.

“What’s going on baby? You look pale.” He did. He had sat up all night thinking about his career. His music. His family. All the people that depended on him. It made him sick to his stomach thinking about all the what if’s.

“I’m… I’m just-” but he couldn’t get the words out. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. His eyes closed as he felt her warmth seep in. She sat up which caused Elvis to panic, thinking she was leaving. She smiled at him and sat up against the headboard. Her arms came around his shoulders and she pulled him to her chest. She kept one hand on his back, and the other wound into his hair. He didn’t know what to do for a minute. No one had ever held him like this except his mother. He always was the one who comforted. But that hand in his hair scratched that one spot right at the base that sent him into a trance. His arms that were at his sides, came up and wrapped around her waist as he fell further into the spell.

“If you don’ wanna talk now, you don’ have t’, El. It can wait till mornin’.” She said gently. His eyes focused on the window that was to the left of him. The thunder shook the house. The lightning provided flashes of light. But the darkness comforted Elvis. He didn’t have to be strong in the darkness of the room. He could allow himself to be vulnerable. He took a deep breath in, and felt her hand start to rub his back in time with the hand in his hair. He let out the breath and felt her press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m scared.”

That was it. There wasn’t much more to it. That quiet admission that started the conversation.

“Whatcha scared about sugah?” She asked, trying to prompt him into getting everything off his chest.

“What if it don’ work out? I-I-I got too many people that count on me to fail. But… they wanna throw me in jail. I can’ support no one if that happens and- they’re… hell bent on makin’ sure I ain’ never gonna get on stage again.” He felt the floodgates open. Everything that he kept hidden in his chest had burst out and was threatening on overflowing. He felt safe in her arms. Her warmth, the hand making circles on his back, and the one scratching gently in his hair. The smell that invaded his nose, the feeling of her skin on his. Knowing he was in a house that he bought and provided for his family. He felt safe. Safe enough to talk to her about the not so pretty parts of his life.

“Hun, if you spend time worrin’ about if you fail, you won’ ever succeed. I know ya scared. I’m scared too. But baby,” her hand on his back came up to his face. He was forced to look at his beloved above him.

“If anyone can make their dream come true, it’s you. And if we lose the luxury items, so what? What matters is that you stay true. All we need is our boy from Tulepo. We don’ need the legendary Elvis Presley. I certainly don’. I just wan’ my Elvis.” The burning in his eyes came back from before. She saw the eyes she loved get clouded by tears and pressed his head back into her chest. He gripped her clothing tightly and pressed himself as close as he could to her. The tears kept coming, and left wet patches in her nightgown. Her lips danced around his head and left kisses in their wake. All the while she kept telling him reassuring words.

“Get it all out baby.”

“You’re so good for us Elvis.”

“We don’ need you to be somethin’ you’re not.”

“That’s my boy.”

He eventually calmed down and quiet hiccups interrupted his breathing every now and then. Both of her hands were now in his hair, scratching and smoothing all at once. He felt better. He didn’t feel so heavy now that he had gotten it all out. Once the hiccups passed, he lifted his head up to meet hers. They were only an inch apart, but he quickly bridged the gap and placed a kiss to her lips. Her soft lips meshed with his slightly chapped ones. Elvis tried to pour everything he felt for her into that kiss. Every ounce of love and adoration. And she reciprocated all the same. He felt the love pour out from her and allowed himself to be blanketed by it. Midnight struck the clock above. Elvis was the first to pull back and place himself further down the bed. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. She let out a squeak but giggled, noticing that she was no longer against the headboard. Instead she was placed perfectly in her pillows. Elvis placed himself to where he could still wrap his arms around her but his head was tucked near her chest and neck. They had resumed their previous position, just sideways now.

Elvis placed small kisses to the skin he could reach. She melted into them and let out a yawn. He chuckled but that was broken by his own yawn that ripped through. She giggled at him and they let the silence take over.

“We should prob’ly get some sleep, huh baby? Goodnight Elvis.” She said, eyes already slipping closed.

“Yeah. We should. Goodnight baby girl.” He felt her breathing even out and her hands still against him. The storm still raged outside, but there was no longer one in his heart. Elvis slipped into a gentle sleep, comforted by her presence. Everything was going to be okay as long as she was there to give him some late night reassurance when he needed it most.

#rebelliousstories #writing #elvis 2022 #austin elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #elvis presley imagine #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine

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huenjin · 3 years

Text

soulmate bruises.

you could have been stuck with any other soulmate mark, so why specifically did it have to be the soulmate scars theory?

"That looks like a real bad bruise," Haknyeon mumbles. His thumb traces the corners of the bruise and you wince, the pain scourging through your nerves, tingling and rushing through your brain furiously.

"Your soulmate must have gotten hit badly," Chanhee chuckles, looking through the photographs in your camera. You frown and curse under your breath. Haknyeon looks through the papers by your side and you look around the photography club you started with these idiots for the school magazine.

"I’ve got an idea," Changmin's eyes glint mischievously as he walks up to your table, having overheard your conversation. "Let's hit Y/N to inflict pain on her soulmate for having hurt her. It's the perfect plan."

Chanhee raises an eyebrow at Changmin but Haknyeon seems to be all in for the plan. Your forehead scrunches in annoyance, your eyebrows furrowing together as you pinch the skin to distract yourself. You groan, mumbling, "Shut up for a second, will you?"

"Fine, spoilsport," the one who suggests the plan says, pressing his lips together in disappointment. He soon began, "My idea was great. All you low lives will never understand."

"I'm going to find this nasty motherfucker," you stand up, determined. The chair pushes back and the table jerks forward as you press your hand down on it firmly. "And he's going to pay for hurting me so much. These bruises take forever to fade away."

Haknyeon stands up soon after, "We just have to find another individual in this city that has the same ugly bruise on their face as she does."

Chanhee and Changmin follow suit, albeit reluctantly. The latter chuckles sardonically, "This is going to be easy. How many people do we even have to search? Yeah, just mere tens of thousands in this city."

Chanhee digresses, "Let's cancel all the nice-looking dudes because our girl here doesn't have good luck."

"You're an arsehole, dude. An arsehole, I say."

"What's with the weird We're Avengers formation you guys have on?"

Younghoon walks into the room with a cup of coffee and Ray-Bans like he's making an entrance and you roll your eyes. He places the glasses on the table and sighs, "It's cool and everything but Juyeon's hurt, Chanhee. He won't tell it out loud, but yeah, he's hurt and he needs help. The nurse isn't in yet."

"He's hurt?" Chanhee asks, concerned.

"Hurt, oh yes. This is perfect." Changmin chirps and Younghoon raises an eyebrow.

"You're Team Rocket now?" He furrows his eyebrows and glances over at you disappointed, almost as if it is your stupidity that has nurtured them into these. "Anyhow, Chanhee, follow me. The rest of you stay put."

Haknyeon, Changmin and you listen because Younghoon was a mere acquaintance. He was, however, Chanhee's childhood friend, and since he is Chanhee's friend, you have seen Lee Juyeon around — at parties, at the basketball court, in the hallways. And that is it.

So, why would you care if this man was hurt?

Unless he got hit like a bitch on his face.

Later that night, you hold yourself close, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. It feels like your ribs are being slammed into something and the pain is unbearable. It leaves you breathless and a little shaky on the ground. You scream at one point and slow winces leave your lips as you try to hold it in.

Haknyeon knocks and walks into your room when you don't reply. He shifts you slightly, his hands rubbing your back slightly as you lightly cry, "I hate that bitch but he must be in so much pain if I'm feeling this much."

Haknyeon's angry. In all honesty, he gets the soulmate mark and how that should help people be happy but never has it led you to your soulmate, only providing pain along with the entire experience. Soulmates are not supposed to bring pain.

Your teeth clench in pain as you sit up. Your feet dangle for a while before it touches the ground and you stand up, ignoring the pain that seers through your body.

"I'm finding that motherfucker, that's it."

Haknyeon chuckles at your resilience. He helps you stand well and watches your determined expression, mumbling, "The boy's dead meat for sure. Either in your hands or the one that's hurting him."

Finding him is easier than you expected. Haknyeon helps you and the two of you leave the house in pursuit of the man with injuries — a bruised face and now, bruised ribs. You have always wanted to meet your soulmate for, a) he was nasty enough to get himself hurt without bothering about your well being, b) he is your soulmate, and deep down, you want to care for him, heal his wounds, and. . . slap some sense into him because it's a connection and he should respect it.

You message Chanhee, knowing if you should start anywhere, it's the closest person you know who has an injury.

You: chanhee? [11:23 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: Juyeon's number? here. [11:23 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: [Juyeon's contact] [11:24 PM] You: what the fuck? [11:24 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: thank me later. [11:24 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: don't kill him. but if it makes you feel better, i'm shipping you two and that his bruise is nastier. [11:30 PM]

"It's Juyeon, isn't it?" Haknyeon pipes and you watch his smile curve upwards. "Turns out Chanhee isn't that useless."

"He is. That arsehole didn't tell me till I asked him of it. What if I didn't? Would he have let me go on a wild goose chase?"

Your phone pings again and you groan, albeit very grateful for his existence

Chanhee is a hoe: [Juyeon's address] [11:36 PM]

Haknyeon laughs, "Knowing him, yes." He drums the bonnet of the car, waiting for you to hop in and when you do, he enters, igniting the engine and zooming away to the address Chanhee has sent you.

Upon reaching his place, Haknyeon wishes you luck and tells you that he'd rather wait in the car and that if you planned on staying the night, then, you should text him so that he could leave. You smile and storm away, trying to build up the rage within you to lash out at your soulmate.

"Lee Juyeon," you slam at his door. "Lee Juyeon, open your door."

You hit the steel door as hard as you can, unbothered by the pain that now seers through your fist. At this rate, you'll be hospitalized with your soulmate and you could have your first date there. How nice; not.

"Y/N?" he opens the door, and you notice the redness around the sides of his fist. Your eyes widen and the air is taken away from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at the man before you.

Lee Juyeon is gorgeous. He leaves you feeling dazed like a comet hitting the earth's crater, strong and hard. He is tall enough to tower you and his eyes sparkle with hope. You notice the bruise on his face under the dim street light by his house and you gape.

"It could be you."

"Huh?"

You run back to the car, tapping at Haknyeon's glass. He pulls it down and hands you a paper cup of hot coffee. You look at him with a snug expression. You notice Juyeon watching you with confusion. You take big strides towards the man and open the cup, only to throw the hot coffee onto his chest, in the same area that had you wincing moments ago.

It hits you a second too late. You drop the cup, holding your upper abdomen, your fingers digging into the underside of your breasts as you fall on your knees. You definitely did not think this through. Juyeon merely clenches his teeth tightly, and you realise that with all this experience you both shared, he's the only one who knows how to deal with the pain.

Haknyeon chuckles at the sight, and almost on cue, he pulls his car back and drives a bit away, parking it by a big tree. Juyeon kneels along with you and helps you up, "Let's put some ice there."

"That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

You're holding your chest and your abdomen messily and you're cursing at Juyeon, "Are you a gangster? A thug? Why do you keep getting hurt?"

"A boxer, actually and I keep getting hurt because Sangyeon will not go easy on me. I'm sorry. You must have been through shit," Juyeon's voice is soothing. Like a fresh warm bath with your favorite soap bombs and a ducky. He helps you into his house, lays you on his sofa carefully as he goes to grab ice.

"Maybe this wasn't all of a bad idea," you shout, and Juyeon chuckles. He even laughs beautifully; how? He asks if he could lift your shirt up as he comes back to your side with a bag full of ice. You nod and he lifts your shirt up, grimacing at the purple bruises that have formed by your abdomen and the area under your breasts. Juyeon is too worried to let his eyes stray anywhere else as he mumbles apologies after apologies.

"It's okay," you chuckle nervously, feeling conscious and slightly bad for your soulmate. "At least now I have you. We'll get through this pain together. You can take care of me and I can take care of you."

Juyeon feels his insides bubbling, his chest tightens, and his heart bloom. If this is what a soulmate's love feels like, he could get high on it. His face gets close to your skin and his lips slightly trace the bruises, before placing kisses on it and then, the ice, all while mumbling, "I'd like that. I'd really like that."

897 notes · View notes

nevereverlandboys · 3 years

Text

Different Pulses

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After Pan gets defeated, Y/N and Felix live together in Storybrooke with the "heroes". They both don't get along and seem to avoid each other, until the "heroes" need to leave them alone to save Henry from another threat. Will Y/N get along with the cold, distant boy?

Part: (1/?)

@madd-devil

This story is heavily inspired by "When it's cold" by:

@the-original-weirdo-83

@peter-pan-on-neverland

Y/N's eyes wandered through the small room, from the small bed to the huge window, stopping at the small drawer underneath it, before finally stepping further in. The walls were dyed light blue and besides a big clock and a flat screen they were empty. There was nothing unusual with this room, nothing really striking and yet it still felt a little strange. She walked forwards and ripped the dark curtains away, opening the window to welcome the golden sunlight into the room, warming her skin. The air smelled different and even the birds chirped in another tune. It seemed as if this world was quieter than the other, less dangerous and more welcoming. For a moment Y/N was soaked into the moment and drifted off into her thoughts, as suddenly some cursing in the next room ripped the girl out of her thoughts. With an annoyed snarl, she rolled her eyes and let herself drop onto the small bed, trying to ignore the sounds that probably came from the grumpy former second in command. After all, he still did not like being taken from Neverland, as he found himself with Y/N in a new home in Storybrooke. He still did not fit in and fought with everything he had to integrate. The second in command was stubborn and feisty, hot-tempered and constantly in a bad mood. Felix had barely granted Y/N a smile since they came off the Island and after he was brought into Mary Margaret's and David Charmings flat, everything went worse. The lost boy usually locked himself up inside his room, stayed there until after dinner to grab himself the leftovers, before vanishing back behind the wooden door. He never seemed to understand the technology around him, not even trying to understand it, but getting angry instead if it did not work out like he had imagined it to. Y/N on the other hand, found herself in a healthy relationship with her hosts real quick. They took it as their own responsibility to take both of them in, after Pan was defeated. Felix, because he was the most stubborn boy that would never find his peace in an orphanage and Y/N, because she was the only girl next to Wendy that lived with the lost boys. After all this time on the island, she found herself being close to Henry as well. The small, young boy was like a little brother to her, making the girl laugh and joining her whenever Mary Margaret would allow them to go out. She was a careful woman and even though she trusted Y/N, there was no reason for her not to be cautious. Also Y/N suspected Mary not to act like granting the girl a privilege while Felix was still being guarded.

Another loud yell from behind those walls disturbed the girls' peaceful daydreams once more, so she grabbed the pillow and pressed it over her head to muffle all the sound, trying her best to ignore everything around. It was a day too pretty for this and Y/N only wanted to relax, but not a few minutes of delightful silence later, she heard a knock on the wooden door. Moving her body properly under the sheets, she faced the door and mumbled just loud enough,"Come in."

The door swung open and revealed the former second in command's worried face, his sweaty hair hung down his face and he breathed so loud that the girl could literally feel anger flooding in the room. The atmosphere turned immediately tense and the room seemed to shrink around her with each second passing. Y/N held her breath and raised one eyebrow in confusion, trying her best to hide her insecurities behind a questioning look, as the lanky, blonde boy's eyes pierced her urgently.

"Where is the little rat?" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone.

"The ra-" She started confused. "Oh."

Henry.

"He took my cloak." Felix raged. "Where is the bastard, so I can smite him!"

"It's in the laundry." Y/N interrupted him before Felix would even try to hurt Henry and give him the fault for her doings. She found it in the bathroom and washed it along with the other laundry. The girl's voice was almost inaudible, well knowing the boy's temper from all the countless encounters with the other lost boys. Felix's eyes twitched and he gritted his teeth as he slowly came closer, one step after another, to close the distance that kept her away from him, the only distance that gave the girl at least a little bit of comfort. Henry could be glad to have to spend the time with the grumpy lost boy on weekends only. How much she envied him.

"What?" He snarled with his face just a few centimeters away from hers and for a moment her mind went blank, the only impulse she felt was to storm out of the room. As she crashed to the door, Y/N did not even bother to look back and swiftly grabbed her shoes and keys before leaving the apartment. The door swung shut with a loud crash that echoed through every room as Felix swayed back in his own room, every cell inside him questioning why his heart felt so heavy. Y/N was not even sure if the lanky boy bothered to chase after her and if her actions seemed a little exaggerated, but when Felix built himself up in front of her, the girl's heart sank into the bottom of her body and fear overtook her mind. The former lost boy had been cruel to other boys for less than that.

She did not stay out for long, simply walked around the block to get some fresh air and to get some space from the tall boy. Also, because she knew that Mary would be mad if she was not home when the woman returned. The first week did not start well and Y/N let out a frustrated sight as she thought of the future. Mary and David left her alone with him half of the day, having the boy locked up in his room was not consoling though, the fact alone that he was present was enough to make her feel nervous. When she returned to the apartment, Felix was nowhere in sight, so she quickly snuck back into her room, hoping that he would leave her alone for the rest of the day. On the other hand, she had to make sure that he would not hurt Henry, the poor boy did nothing wrong. For a moment Y/N hesitated until she decided to get Felix's cloak from the washing line on the balcony. Not a surprise that the asshole did not know it was there, when he never left his room. Still, the girl felt a little curious when she thought of what he might do all day by himself- especially with no understanding of technology. Was he not bored? There was no convincing answer that she could think of and Y/N wondered if she would find out as she strutted with the big cloak in her hands towards Felix's room. She knocked at the door and immediately regretted it after the previous events. Nevertheless she tried to be brave and push her fear aside, telling herself that the former second in command was not threatening at all.

She knocked again when nothing happened and suddenly some angry footsteps stomped into her direction-, firm and loud, before the tall boy ripped the door wide open, revealing his furious face.

"What the fuck do you want?" Felix growled, the veins of his neck throbbing and his hands pressed so tightly into fists that his knuckles turned white.

"I-...eh." Y/N stammered nervously and tightened her grip onto the cloak. Her eyes widened as she thought, He would not hurt me, would he? "I have your-"

"Keep that!" Felix interrupted her, his words were like poison.

Felix slammed the door shut before the girl could say another word, leaving her in the dark hallway with an unsettling feeling inside her guts that something was wrong. But how could she even tell what? Felix never spoke to her that much and it was pretty obvious that he would not do more in the future. All Y/N knew was that the grumpy boy missed the island and that he missed Pan, even though the girl never understood his obedience to the green devil. Peter Pan was manipulative and evil and she was glad he never left Neverland alive. Felix couldn't give her the fault for his loss, she had never helped the heroes and even refused as the only one next to him to say a word. Well, Y/N opened up quicker and befriended the "heroes" after everything they did. It was a saint if she could speak freely about it. The cloak must mean a lot to Felix, or else he would never be this angry, even for a boy who had a tendency to violence-, he never hurt Y/N before. She really hoped he would take it back and overcome his rage. The idea that Felix might only looked for a reason to hate Henry more occured her a few minutes later, but it was an unspoken thought that seemed to be way too assumptious.

"I am sorry about Peter." She moved her forehead onto the wooden door, resting it there for a bit and after a while she watched a single tear drop down onto the ground. Peter was not completely evil, not to Y/N at least and deep inside he was a loss to her as well. There was a short time where Felix seemed to be nice too, back on Neverland just weeks before Peter got defeated. He had shown the girl a flower field and tickled her until some boy's would crossy their way and disturb that lovely moment. It was the first and only time he had ever been close in a comforting way. Since then, Y/N had always hoped to see the boy underneath this rusty shell, but it was all gone since the second he stepped off the boat.

The door stayed closed and she stared at Felix's cloak, wondering what to do with it. When Y/N returned to her own room and snuck underneath the covers, the cloak was still under her arm. It did not smell like Felix anymore. The ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the room, capturing the girl's eyes to check the time- six pm. It was late, almost time for Mary Margaret to come back from work and cook some dinner, and when it was time for Y/N to sleep, David would come home too and Emma would come tomorrow, to bring Henry over for the weekend. Y/N barely saw David. He was always busy with his work in the police station and would get home late in the night. He left Felix and her up to Mary and Emma, which was definitely a hard task thinking of the rebellious boy next to Y/N's room. The man could not stand the former lost boy, the girl had seen it in his eyes when Emma brought her onto the ship, back then, from escaping Neverland. Felix's emotions seemed mutual and everyone around could sense it. That both of them were separated most of the time, was not so bad after all. Mary Margarett even tried to take it as an opportunity to get to know more about the former lost boy, but all her attempts failed. The boy kept shut, would not reveal his past and barely replied to any of the woman’s actions. It was tiring to watch, quite a show though. It seemed like a boring game of charade, in which Mary kept asking him countless questions and then tried to interpret his annoyed growls as he ate some cereal. Breakfast was a strict rule for him to join and dinner to avoid.

Y/N rolled over and grabbed her phone, turning some music on to change her thoughts and kill the silence. Even though it was so early, she felt how her eyelids were getting heavy, how she slowly drifted off into sleep, using the cloak as a pillow. Throwing it away was not an option for her, there could always come a time where the former lost boy would demand it back.

It felt like a whole night when the girl woke up from a strange feeling of someone pulling on something underneath her. Out of reflex, she tightened the grip on the cloak in her arms. The pulling got stronger and when she realised that this was not a dream, she slowly opened her tired eyes.

"I changed my mind." Felix scoffed. "I want it back."

With a mind still dizzy and drunk from sleep, Y/N's sight was still so blurry, that it was hard to catch up and she needed a moment to follow the lost boy's words. He obviously meant the cloak, but why did he make such a fuss about it when he did not want it in the first place?

"Y/N?" He pronounced her name so carefully when he realised her eyes were closing again. She did not respond.

The sound of Felix's knees hitting the floor startled the girl out of sleep, finding herself sitting bolt upright in bed, pressing the cloak with widened eyes tightly against her chest. He let out an amused chuckle, grinning from ear to ear. Being fully awake now, Y/N realised why the tall boy was here and she slowly reached her hand forward, handing the boy his cloak over. What the hell did he do in the middle of the night inside her room? Why could this not wait? Her eyes wandered to her phone on the small nightstand-, it was eight pm and winter. It caused the girl to genuinely laugh to herself.

"Sorry for washing it." She whispered meek, avoiding Felix's gaze and dropped her head back onto the pillow before turning away from him to close her eyes.

"It's all right." With that Felix quickly made his way back to his own room, the door closing so quick as if he had run.

The next day he kept quiet, did not say a word at breakfast, not even a snarky comment towards Henry who was constantly talking about one of his favourite movies and its heroes. The word 'hero' usually was enough to make the former lost boy explode. Not this time. His steel like eyes were glued onto his bowl as he ate in silence. Later he would sit in the living room, watching some TV that Henry forgot to turn off and would not even complain when Y/N joined and switched the channel. For a moment she felt his eyes burning on her skin. When she met his gaze, the former lost boy rose to his feet and walked away, slamming his door to confirm he was in his room now. Felix was strange and not the friendliest boy for sure. Still, Y/N had the feeling that there was more behind his behaviour that he would let her on and that he exaggerated an act. Mary would give her some tasks over the time like getting the groceries, which she would really appreciate doing, since it was a great way to get out. Y/N and Felix were no prisoners of course and the cold of the thick snow creeping in from the outside would keep her under her covers anyway. There never has been snow on Neverland. It was entirely strange and yet so familiar, waking a nostalgic feeling inside the girl. When Y/N found her way to the grocery store, there was no one to harm her and she had all the time she needed to wander through the different Isles and shove anything she liked into the shopping cart. There were no lost boys with spears and torches, that would hunt the girl down until her feet would bleed. No Pan that played his dangerous, manipulative games, that only entertained him in a twisted, sadistic way, satisfying him, that it could already be a kink.

It was freedom.

The good snacks from the store disappeared immediately inside the drawer, keeping it safe from Henry or Felix. Both had the tendency to steal Y/N's food. She would often cook for herself, learning new skills since there was nothing else to do anyways. As soon as Mary returned, the girl hoped she would bring some more groceries, but she got disappointed. The snow held her off too long, the mood to go into the supermarket was simply gone and Y/N could understand that.

"You can go with Henry." She smiled and grabbed herself something to drink from the fridge.

"When will he be here?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as she waited for an answer. The short haired woman slowly turned around, her face seemed to be frozen in an unbelieving, perplexed and slightly fearing frown.

"Isn't he here alr-" She stopped and both of their heads shot into the same direction when a key was put inside the front lock, turning and unlocking the door. The girl expected the young boy to get home, instead, Emma stormed into the apartment, shortly followed by David and the girl already saw on their faces that something was wrong. Mary let go of what she was doing and closed the distance between them with quite some concern on her face.

"They took Henry!" Emma bursted out, her eyes searching the room as if her son could just hide somewhere and would just magically appear any moment. She looked full of hope. David gently rubbed her back and told Mary to get her things. They always seemed to find trouble and now Y/N finally understood what Felix meant, when he once claimed that their hero being was only a facade and they were the true danger. Were they? Henry was gone and that was because he was so important to these women.

"Who took him?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"Stay out of this, you are not a part of this." Emma ignored the question and gently shoved the former lost girl out of her way to get her keys. She ripped the door wide open and jumped down the hallway without bothering to close it, expecting the others to follow quickly.

"We will get Henry back." Mary turned to Y/N, trying to comfort her by holding her hands. "You don't have to worry."

It was not the young boy she worried about and the short haired woman knew that. With a quick glance back to Felix's closed door, Y/N gulped and immediately shook her head.

"I can come with you!" She protested at the thought of being all alone with the former second in command.

"No," Mary said and sighted. "I need you here."

Her gaze wandered off to Felix's door again and her look grew frustrated. Y/N followed with her eyes and nodded before facing the short haired woman again. She turned to the counter and grabbed her purse to pull out her wallet. Then she collected all the money she had and put it in a sugar box inside the shelf.

"I trust you enough." Her words meant a lot. "Besides, once in a while Regina will check up on you two."

With that, Mary Margaret turned around and gave David a final nod, before both of them left the apartment to join their daughter in the car. As soon as Y/N closed the door behind them, everything went into an uncomfortable silence. There was no single sound instead of the unbearable striking of the clock hanging on the kitchen wall.

"Great." Y/N moaned quietly. At least they could have told her who took Henry and for what possible reason. The adults would always seem to know better and in this case they decided it would be better to keep Felix and her out of this. Did they really want to leave her out of it, or was Y/N just not to be trusted? Felix would easily try to convince her about that. The former lost boy probably would not care at all. It was smart of Mary Margaret to hide some money for Y/N. The fridge was almost empty and she wondered how long they would be away and when she would need food. There was nothing good inside it, nothing appealing, so Y/N closed the door and strutted back to her room. Dropping into the sheets, she grabbed the remote next to her pillow and turned on the TV. Henry had shown her how to use it real quick as he often joined the girl to play video games. All those years living here and using all these things caused him to always be smarter and it was the first thing Y/N noticed that Felix disliked about him. At the end, there were countless things the scarred up boy hated, but Henry was always the center of his anger.

With the time passing by, the rumbling in the girl's stomach got louder until her tummy literally screamed for something to eat. Back in the kitchen, there was still nothing appealing and with a quick glance to Felix's wooden door, she wondered if the former lost boy would like to eat something too. Each step further towards his room felt more heavy and Y/N's stomach turned inside out. The moment her knuckles knocked against the cool wood, she questioned why she even tried to be nice and get along with him. The floor was cold, maybe she should have put on some socks or turned on the heater. There was no sound on the other side of the wood and Y/N started to wonder if Felix was even home, when suddenly some heavy footsteps slowly strutted closer. Felix swayed the door wide open and rubbed his tired eyes, then rested his heavy head on the doorframe. He only wore some grey sweatpants, revealing his scars on his pale chest. The air around the girl thickened and her body heated up at the sight of his messy, sweaty morning hair.

"Sorry." She mumbled and avoided looking at him. His presence alone caused shivers to run down her spine. "Did I wake you?"

"M-hm." Felix grumbled tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. Y/N's eyes wandered back to the open kitchen and its clock. It was four o'clock.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall boy remained silent for a moment, his dull eyes staring at the girl as if he did not understand the question, turned to look at his bed, then slightly nodded with his head as if it was the hardest thing to do.

"I could eat." He spoke with a deep, raspy voice, laying his focus back onto Y/N. Fuck, he sounded so hot, it caught her off guard and left her unable to speak for a glimpse moment.

"I am ordering food." She said after a small moment. "What would you like?"

Felix pressed his brows together, then lifted one in confusion. "How does that work?" He asked and Y/N chuckled in amusement, feeling how her stiffened limbs relaxed.

"You choose a restaurant and then decide what you want to eat." She explained and showed the blonde boy her phone. "They deliver it and you pay."'

"Ah."

Y/N were not sure if Felix was not understanding it, or simply did not like it. He brought his hands up to his arms and rubbed the scarred skin, feeling how cold it was and finally bothered to put on a T-shirt. If Y/N were honest with herself, she liked Felix's exposed back. Muscles danced under tender flesh, as arms stretched upon the ceiling, forward and crooked together, pulling the cotton over his chest. Back on Neverland, Felix always seemed to be violent and rough, harsh to others and never in a good mood. There has not changed much, yet the dangerous, threatening touch was missing since he came to Storybrooke with Y/N. He was bent to new rules now.

"Pizza." Felix said and stepped closer, closing the distance and bent down to take a glimpse of the menu. "Do they have some?"

Y/N's skin started to prickle when she felt his breath against her cheek and immediately froze in place. Why was he so close?

"You know Pizza?" She asked unsure, still a little curious. Felix smirked and let out a husky chuckle. "Sure I do."

He walked past her into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, gulped it down, filled another one, gulped it down, but when he repeated that for a third time, the second in command could not finish it and disposed of the remains in the sink. He turned around to check the time and widened his eyes as he realised how late it already was.

"The days are dark during winter." The boy mentioned with a side-along gaze, as if he knew that she might have criticised him for sleeping that long. Y/N did not know how to respond, but was confident enough to join the tall boy in the kitchen, pulling the chair back and taking a seat at the table. Both of them did not say a word and with each second passing in silence, she regretted sitting there with him even more.

"Why did you run from me earlier?" The question caught her off guard, she needed a moment to think for the right answer. The girl tilted her head in Felix's direction, his eyebrows were lifted up in a questioning look and he leaned at the counter, waiting for the girl to open her mouth and speak. He was just curious, not too gruff nor angry.

"You scare me sometimes." Y/N admitted. "It's like being back in Neverland."

The former lost boy nodded disappointed and shifted his gaze out of the window to hide half of his features as if she would ever be able to read them.

"You really did not like the Island." The boy stated, receiving a light nod as an answer. "Was it so bad?"

"There were no toilets."

Felix could not help but chuckle, a warm genuine smile spread over his face and he nodded his head in agreement when he faced her again.

"Toilets sure are great." He laughed. "Or warm running water."

Felix pushed himself away from the counter and slendered over to the girl, taking a seat on the chair in front of her. "It took me three days to find out how that works, by the way." He added after a small pause. Y/N could only shake her head in response and give him a brief smile. "Must have been cold."

The tall boy agreed in silence and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for the food to arrive. He would disappear for a while to go to the bathroom, giving her some space to clear her mind. All she could think about was how beautiful the former second in command looked when he smiled, making her nervous the longer he stayed with her. For a moment, it seemed like he was another person when she was all alone with him.

"Where are the others?" Felix asked when he returned from the bathroom, pulling the chair around to straddle it.

"Someone took Henry." Y/N admitted low, not even wanting him to know that, well aware that he would only mock this situation, probably having expected such a thing sooner or later.

"Hm.’' Felix let out an amused chuckle and gave her a winning smirk, one that said,"Told you so!"

"We're on our own for a while." The girl said, checking her phone for a message from the delivery guy. Not long. Almost here. How the time had passed by.

"I am fucking happy they are gone." Felix snorted and rolled his eyes."They were such a pain in the ass."

At least they gave him a home and clothes, food and no worries about his current life. That was something and even though Y/N knew how beautiful the Island could be, the former lost boy had not been safe there. None of them were. How could he still be so blinded after all? Y/N wanted to respond but decided to keep her mouth shut. Right at that moment the doorbell rang. Shifting from her seat, Y/N strutted over to the door and opened it, waiting a few moments for the delivery guy to get up the stairs and hand her the Pizza. She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it over to the man before closing the door. The boxes felt hot on her cool hands and the smell of fat, cheese and pepperoni filled the room, making the girl realise how hungry she actually was. Felix's stomach started to rumble when she started to cut her Pizza, so she assumed he did not have any breakfast either. For a moment the girl really enjoyed the boy's company and hoped he would stay longer, but she was also sure that he would take his food and vanish as quickly as he used to do. Yet, Felix never ceased to amaze her. He waited in silence until she was done cutting, then he took the knife and in that moment her fingers touched his, she felt a quick, electric sensation followed by butterflies rumbling in her stomach. Taking the Pizza, she quickly strutted into the direction of your room to hide her sudden joy, just to be stopped by Felix calling her name.

"Where are you going?"

"Into my room?" Y/N gave confused back ,wondering why he would want her to accompany him all of the sudden.

"Oh- I thought…" Felix sounded disappointed.

"Oh…" Her eyes widened and maybe she sounded a bit too harsh. "I thought you wouldn't want-"

"Nevermind." Felix barked harshly and swiftly vanished behind his own door, not even giving the girl a chance to say another word. Damn, this boy was so sensitive, his mood was constantly switching and Y/N wished to find out why he was always so pessimistic about everything. Not now, she thought, not now. First she would eat, then she would take care of that matter.

The boy let out an annoyed sight when he opened his door after Y/N knocked not long after she finished eating. Felix was eating the last slice of his pizza and held the empty box in his other hand.

"Why are you always coming to me?" He snarled.

"I just care about you! For god’s sake! You act so fucking mean since we came here and I wonder why." She raised her voice and knitted her eyebrows together in a serious manner

"Please don't do this." Felix moaned theoretically. "Please don't act as if you cared!"

Felix swiftly turned around and threw the empty box of Pizza aside. His fast movements caused her to flinch a little, but still she managed to remain calm.

"You don't care!" He snarled. "Nobody cares. Just leave me alone."

The tall boy did not need to turn around and give her a final glare, he made it clear that she was not wanted and no matter how much he needed her help, she respected his wishes. Y/N had really no thought to waste about him when she went straight into the bathroom to take a bath that might cool her nerves. That fucking audacity and this childish behaviour, as if Felix really meant what he was saying. They both knew he was not serious and that he was simply lying to himself about his emotions. There was no place for love in his heart after being manipulated by Pan for so long, nor for friendship. Y/N did not care what the former second in command told himself about their friendship, it all has been a lie and a game for Pan, something to entertain him. It was worthless. His loss meant nothing, still Y/N cared how Felix felt about the betrayal of every former boy.

While she stripped off her clothes, the girl waited for the bathtub to be filled with hot water and bubbles, a metaphorical way to clean her thoughts when diving in. She should rather think about helping someone out and earn some money, so she could afford buying her own things. She splashed the water with her fingers and slowly sank deeper into the bathtub to enjoy the silence. The hot steam filled the room and when her thoughts drove off to something pleasantly, she almost forgot the time. Back in Neverland there was nothing to worry about time, the days were almost all the same and no one was there to rush someone. Things have barely changed in Storybrooke, since there was nothing to do for Y/N and the lanky lost boy, so they needed to find something to kill the time.

It had been an eternity since the girl had taken a proper bath and maybe it was time to get out, but the hot water remained too tempting for her to step out. With a deep breath she closed her eyes and leaned back, as suddenly a door slammed shut, immediately telling her that Felix was leaving his room again. His slow footsteps definitely made their way towards the bathroom and Y/N realised that she did not lock the door. She did not really forget to lock the door, right? The girl could not recall it and to get out of the water, to check was too late, as she watched agonised how the door handle went down and the door swung wide open, causing her heart to skip a beat. The tall lost boy did not seem to notice her at first, but as soon as he entered the steamy room, Felix froze in place. His eyes widened and his face turned blank. For a long moment, they both stared at each other and Y/N felt relieved that she was at least covered by a thick foam of bubbles.

"Fuck, sorry...I-" Felix stuttered through half open lips, as if the little sight of a girl's skin was enough to steal his voice. It gave Y/N her confidence back.

"I didn't mean to-" the boy still couldn't open his mouth while his gaze burned holes through her. It took him a moment, but suddenly Felix shook his head to ban whatever he was thinking about and shifted his eyes away, then turned on his heels to swiftly leave the bathroom.

At least he could have closed the door, Y/N thought as she sunk deeper into the water in embarrassment. Fuck, how in the hell could she forget to close the door? At least he did not see anything, or did he? The whole situation left her frozen in place, unable to think clearly. Y/N did not even dare to step out of the water to close the door, so she just sat there, trying her best to calm down. After a while, the skin of her fingertips were already wrinkled up, leaving a rough touch on her softened skin and she finally thought about getting out of the bathtub. A long time had passed, since Felix stepped into the bath and now the water was starting to get cold. The girl's eyes searched the room for a towel until she realised that she had washed them and now they hung in the living room. Fuck this shit.

"Felix!" She called him as loud as she could, but there was no answer. The boy did not respond until she called him again.

"What do you want?" His voice echoed through the hallway. She sounded unsure and intrigued.

"I have a problem."

"Well now you have two." Felix yelled back.

Y/N frowned in confusion and lifted her head.

"How's that?"

"I ain't interested in your first problem."

She let out an annoyed sight and rolled with her eyes and brought her fingers to her forehead, running over her skin in a steady, relaxing movement. Why was he like that? Was it really necessary to always find a way for drama?

"I don’t have a towel." She whined, hoping for him to bring her one. The grumpy boy did not respond again, an unbearable silence filling the apartment. Felix was there, the girl knew that he was. He had not shut his door yet, so he must be in the living room or kitchen where he would perfectly understand you.

"Felix…" She called him, already giving up that he would come and breaking her mind by finding a way to get past him. "Please."

A few seconds later she heard his footsteps come back again, the wood creaking under his weight and announcing the boy’s arrival. He did not even enter the room, instead Felix threw the towel through the open crack.

"I need to take a piss, so please hurry up!" He said rather cowardly before the footsteps led him away, then shutting the door shut. Y/N did not hesitate and got out of the water as quickly as she could, barely drying her skin before she sprinted into her own room before the former lost boy would cross her way again.

Why did such things always happen to her? Could it not have been someone else to walk in like Emma or Mary? Of course not, destiny always found a way to punish the girl,- first Pan, now Felix. Nevertheless, the cold boy stayed inside her mind all the time. She dressed herself and got ready to snuck under the blankets. For a while she allowed herself to dream of him cuddling against her back, how his big body would feel like pressed against hers, or maybe even… on top of her?

NO.

Fuck no, she was not having dirty daydreams of mister cold facade. There was nothing special about Felix, right? Eventually that long scar that ran over his jagged jawline and those blue, stabbing eyes fascinated her. Those piercing eyes, that were sharp as daggers and intimidating as the gaze of a shark. There was definitely something mysterious about the former second in command, still, Y/N had told herself that she was done with adventures and risky decisions- Felix was definitely one of those,- that she could tell. He was hot, but also the biggest asshole she ever met. The former lost boy kept wandering through the apartment and distracting the girl's dreaming thoughts with each passing second. He would not leave her mind until she fell asleep.

(Next Chapter ->)

#felix ouat #ouat felix #parker croft #ouat #ouat felix x reader #ouat felix imagine

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malum-forev · 3 years

Text

Try Anything Once

BuckyBarnes x Reader

Bucky finds himself at the worse place, the doctor’s office. But maybe it isn’t as bad as he thought.

Word Count: 2.6k

There were many things that brought James Buchanan Barnes rage, but at the top of his list was his mechanical arm. It was bad enough that it was a constant reminder of who he was, who he was created to be, but now due to a technical failure, it was even more of an inconvenience.

“I already told you that it’s fine.” He muttered at Sam, trying to open and close his palm, with no avail.

“Yeah, and if I were blind, I would believe that. You need to get that thing fixed. Maybe it just needs some motor oil.” He said followed by a loud laugh, only making Bucky’s eyes roll. “I already reported it to the medical department, anyways.”

“What are doctors going to tell me about this thing, it’s not flesh. They don’t know anything about it.”

“Well, I mean, we do have the best doctors in the world. I think they know something about that contraption.” Sam replied, standing up from his position and traveling to the front of the airplane to see how long it would take them to get back to the compound.

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to calm the bubbling anger that was filling him up, almost to the point of explosion. It was supposed to be the best, why would it be giving him trouble. Subsiding his anger, he thought that maybe he would have to go to Wakanda to get it fixed. Maybe he would even have to stay there for some time, he could only dream of that. In the past 80 years, that was the only time he felt something close to peace. Forcing his eyes to open, he realized that the plane was descending. Looking out the window, he saw what he dreaded the most. A team of people in white bathrobes.

“Doctors.” Bucky huffed in annoyance.

As he made his way through the white corridors with fluorescent lighting, he could hear at least three pairs of feet shuffling behind him. He could almost sense they were too nervous to ask him any questions. He stopped at the end of the hallway and waited for three seconds before turning around to face them.

“Well? Are you going to open this stupid door, or do I have to break it to get this thing fixed?” He yelled, not feeling anything as he saw the three young doctors shake and vigorously nod their heads. The tallest one, she couldn’t be a day older than 25, quickly entered the access code and opened the door. Revealing a large waiting room with one assistant behind a desk. He heard the elevator music first, after that came a whiff of something. Some kind of flower Bucky couldn’t recognize.

“I have an appointment.” Was the only thing he said as the assistant moved his eyes away from the computer and saw the former Winter Soldier. He was different, he wasn’t scared of Bucky.

“Name and date of birth please.” He asked kindly as he faced back to the computer.

“This must be a joke.” Bucky said, as he watched the assistant’s motionless expression, he realized it wasn’t. “James Buchanan Barnes, March 10th, 1917.”

“Thank you, Dr. (y/l/n) will be with you shortly. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?” He smiled again, only enraging Bucky even more. He decided no answer was needed. After about two minutes, he saw the door swing open and a field agent came out first.

“Thank you so much Doc.” She smiled, Bucky had seen her before if he remembers well, she even introduced herself. But like always, he never remembered anyone’s name. She smiled as she passed him, and he just nodded back. After the agent, a woman in that dreaded white bathrobe came out. Average build, fragile looking, late twenties, it would take me less than two seconds to knock her off the ground. Bucky thought, immediately erasing the thought from his mind, something his therapist had taught him to do.

“Mr. Barnes, please come inside.” She said, her voice was extremely peaceful and calm. Everything about her seemed that way. It was as if one of those singing birds from Snow White had come out of the storybook and became a human. Bucky followed her into her office and sat down, looking at the pendulum sitting on top of her neatly organized desk. Swinging back and forth infinitely. “You’re here because your arm is giving you trouble?”

“The metal one.” Was the only thing he said, she just nodded and motioned him to sit on the exam table, “I’m not laying on that. I’m not five.”

“You’re obviously not five, you were born in 1917.” She quickly replied. “If anything, I should have you sitting on a wheelchair, or one of those reclining chairs they have elderly people in. I need you to lay down here to check your prosthetic. I also need you to remove your jacket, and anything that would obstruct me from performing my analysis.”

With a quick glare, he followed her instructions. He took his jacket off and without thinking twice, ripped the sleeve from his t-shirt.

Laughing a bit, the doctor started contorting his arm in different directions. “You superheroes really have a passion for all things dramatic. You could have taken off your shirt.”

“This was easier.”

“Not much of a talker, are you?” she said before pressing on a disk near the arm’s wrist. Gaining a hiss from the former assassin.

“Could you just stop.” He said in an annoyed tone. “I’m just here because your people were waiting for me once I got off the damn plane. Now stop messing with it before you break my arm.”

With one swoop motion, he was back on his feet. “This is made from an incredible rare material. Something that they probably didn’t even know existed at whatever school you got your degree from. Which one was it?” Bucky said, getting more and more angry as he saw the doctor didn’t even flinch at what he was saying. He started looking around the walls to see where she had that paper framed. The one every doctor likes to display, as if it was some sort of badge.

“I don’t have a medical degree. You can say this comes,” Dr. (y/l/n) took a pause. “Naturally to me.”

Bucky let out a small laugh. “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, I’m not going to have some random person who couldn’t even finish med school looking at my arm. It’s probably more expensive than everything you own.

Dr. (y/l/n)’s expression didn’t change, the small smile still on her mouth. “Pepper’s team warned me about you, Mr. Barnes. They said you were, difficult.”

“Difficult.” Bucky scoffed as he leaned on the medical table, he watched the doctor move back behind her desk. Typing something on her computer, the printer slowly coming to life, sending out a small piece of paper.

“Well, they actually said you were a huge pain. Difficult is just the word I choose to use.” She adjusted her glasses and read what was on the paper, taking out a pen and signing it.

“It really shows that after Steve left, this place started hiring just about anybody. Their whole system is going to fall apart if they keep uncredited people here.” Bucky spat out, aggravated at the mere thought that Sam would have sent you here with her.

“You’re not completely wrong with that statement. But I don’t think it was after Steve, it was before that. At one point they even recruited brain washed assassins.” The doctor replied with a grin on her face, only making Bucky’s blood boil even more. “Try this, it will help with regaining mobility.”

Bucky ripped the paper out of the doctor’s hand, crumpling it up and shoving it in his back pocket. Turning around to leave the office.

“Oh and Mr. Barnes, you have to come back to finish the assessment before you can go back into the field. Those are the orders stated by Mr. Wilson.” Again, that smug smile adorning her face. Does she always have something to say? Bucky thought as he stormed out of the medical building, heading straight to Sam’s room. He was going to hear what Bucky had to say about that know-nothing fake doctor.

Bucky heard Sam’s laugh before he actually saw him, as the automatic doors opened, he saw that the laughter was directed towards him.

“I’m guessing by your angrier than usual glare, you saw (y/n).” Sam said with a gigantic smile.

“Was that some sort of prank? You hired a fake doctor only for me to go and waste my time?” Bucky asked as he strode past him walking straight into the kitchen.

“What did you have planned for the rest of the day? Sitting on the corner of your bed at three pm, standing in a corner at four and do your hair at five? I know you do your hair, it’s impossible for it to always be perfectly imperfect.” Sam said shooting Bucky a questioning gaze, but he just rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “And what are you talking about fake doctor? Please tell me you let her do her job, if not I can’t let you come on the mission tomorrow.”

“Of course I didn’t, tomorrow I’m going to see an actual doctor to get a stupid note that says I’m fine! Even though I’m telling you right now that I’M FINE.” He yelled as he smashed down the bottle, making it as flat as a piece of paper.

It was at this specific moment that F.R.I.D.A.Y. said: “Bucky Barnes, you have an appointment with your therapist tomorrow at 11:30 am. If you were to miss this appointment, you will be sanctioned and will not be able to assist on missions.”

This obviously sent Sam on a fit of laughter. “That message couldn’t have come at a better time. Anyways, you need to get your appointments aligned. I suggest you go to the Doc’s office tomorrow morning to see if she has anything available.”

“Just send me the actual doctor’s office and I’ll be there tomorrow morning.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Bucky, I don’t know who got it into your head but, (y/n) is an actual doctor. That why she’s Dr. (y/l/n) and not just (y/n).”

“She was the one who told me she’s not credited. She doesn’t even have a medical degree, let alone know anything about vibranium!” Bucky said throwing his hands up in the air.

“You don’t have a degree but that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of being an ass. And an annoying one too!” Sam said, getting frustrated with the conversation. “Look, Dr. (y/n) has been here for a long time, she knows what she’s doing. Maybe you don’t know anything about her because you were frozen for half of your life and the other half you spent being a cyborg assassin. Also, she was one of the first people to handle vibranium when it was found in Wakanda, so I think she knows something about that. She even spent some time in a hut over there, just like you! You have more things in common than you think. So, tomorrow you’re gonna get her some coffee, go to her office, apologize for being, well, you; and get that arm fixed. In the meantime, you can look up some things about her. You do remember how to google things right?”

“Of course I remember. Could you just help me get on the net?” Bucky said while holding out his phone, it was now Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.

--------

The next morning, Bucky reluctantly made his way back to the medical building. The two disposable coffee cups were almost knocked out of his hands when the doors swung open.

“Back already Mr. Barnes?” he heard Dr. (y/l/n) say, it surprised him that she would talk so casually with him, given that yesterday he was, difficult. “Should I put down extra thirsty as a side effect on your chart?” She asked pointing to both of the cups.

“Actually Doctor, one of them is for you. I didn’t know what you drank so one is a black coffee and the other one has a splash of milk and sugar. Sam told me you would accept coffee as an apology, some sort of olive branch.” Bucky said, shoving both of the cups near her for her to choose.

“You can take me to get coffee instead. Judging by the stale smell, this is day old coffee. Plus, I don’t think you have tried oat milk lattes.” She smiled as she guided him to the restaurant inside the compound.

“Oat milk wasn’t a thing in the 40’s.” Was all that Bucky replied. “I wanted to formally apologize. It’s something new to me, my therapist says I should externalize my feelings more. I did not know your past; you know with the whole regenerative thing.”

This was the first time he saw her not smile. She looked away for a moment and asked “Did you try what I told you. It’s a type of oil that seeps into the smallest indentations in vibranium, creating a protective layer. With that, and some rehabilitation exercises, you will feel as good as new.”

Bucky just shook his head, not wanting to talk about his less than normal extremity. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she interrupted. “I know what you’re going to ask me. I may not be able to read minds but this profession has taught me many things, one of them being how to read people’s expressions.”

“Can you still do it?” He pressed on, if what he had read was true, then she was probably one of the only people that could understand what he was feeling.

“Yes, of course I can. As a supersoldier I would think you understood. It’s not something that you can just turn off, it’s here forever.” She said pointing to her whole body. “I didn’t want this; I didn’t ask to be able to regenerate. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time and with the wrong people.”

“I researched you last night.” Bucky admitted shooting her a shy smile.

“Didn’t think you were tech-savvy.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. “That was a long time ago, she’s long gone. I thought what I was doing was the right thing. And he, he convinced me that it was. But alas, I was only some sort of protection. Receiving the bullets that would wound him and healing the cuts that would kill him. But after I realized all the damage, we were actually doing I, I found this place. And from there on I decided I was going to heal other people. Even if they couldn’t regenerate.”

“I can relate.” Bucky said, slouching back on the bench they were sitting on, a weird feeling appearing inside of him. Something that he wasn’t used to, relaxation and peace. “I appreciate you not flipping out yesterday, I was out of line.”

“I’ve dealt with worse people here.” She laughed. “I looked at your videos fighting. You need to take better care of that arm of yours.”

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me Doc, had I known I would have smiled at the camera.” Bucky said shooting her a smile, it was the first time she had seen him actually do that.

“It’s my job to check my patient’s whole file.” She explained but couldn’t resist to smile back. “And you can call me (y/n) by the way.”

“In that case, call me Bucky.”

#bucky fluff #buck #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x you #bucky barns imagine #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter soldier #tfatws

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

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mermaidenisaacs · 4 years

Text

isaac is a soft warm husband pt. 2

isaac unwittingly becomes a househusband to his high-functioning workaholic wife. and he’s a little salty about it.

romance/humor

warnings: graphic sexual language

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

“Isaac,” I sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”

Isac reclined further back against the pillows on our bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am listening, honey. You’re upset. You’re upset because you think I’m trying to control you. Just because I said I wanted you to stop working so much, you think I’m trying to turn you into an obedient little housewife.”

“Stop saying ‘you think.’ It’s dismissive. I know these things to be facts.”

“Do you, love?” The corner of his mouth turned up in a subtle smirk. “I love it when you act like a little know-it-all. It’s such a turn on.”

“I-saac, stop flirting with me like we’re teenagers. I’m being serious. You knew when you married me that I wasn’t going to be a typical housewife for you. Now all of a sudden, you want me to stay home and stop working?”

Isaac shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and I feel like you know that. Will you just come back to bed?”

It was a tempting offer. The covers were up to Isaac’s waist, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and normally I’d have zero reservations about climbing into bed with my husband, but he was trying to distract me and it was not going to work. Not this time.

“No,” I muttered, regretfully tearing my gaze from his sun-kissed chest and the light smattering of hair that covered the hard plane under his stomach, the treasure trail that led to happier places than this conversation. “I’m not getting back in bed until you apologize.”

I was standing at the foot of the mattress, my hands on my hips. I probably looked like a stern vice principal or something. I felt a little ridiculous but I had to hold my ground. This wasn’t about me. This was about feminism. This was about my right to live my life how I wanted. I was standing up for women everywhere. That’s what I told myself.

“What exactly do you want me to apologize for?” Isaac asked, too calmly for my liking. “Fine, I’m sorry for noticing that you're basically a workaholic. That you’re always tired and frustrated after you come home from work. Baby, all I did was suggest you should cut back on work, delegate some of your responsibilities to other people.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I don’t want my boss to think I can’t handle all of it. He already makes sexist jokes about how I’m the first woman he’s ever promoted to my position. Besides, you said you wanted me to stay home, not work less.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay, fine, it’s not. Is it so bad that I want to spend more time with my wife?”

“We spend time together...” I mumbled, sounding unconvincing even to myself.

Isaac laughed. “Oh yeah, I get to talk to you five minutes before bed because you pass out right when you get home from the office, which lately has been about 10 pm. Oh, and if I’m lucky I get to talk to you on the weekend in between your 15 minute breaks because you bring the office home with you.”

I groaned and paced to the other side of the room. “Well, what do you want me to do?! I’m sorry I care about my job!”

“I get that! I care about my job too, but at least I’m here. And you’re not. I feel like all I ever do is cook and clean and wait for you to get back, holding out some small hope that you might stay awake for just a minute longer so I can share maybe two words with you--that’s if you’re not too tired from crying into my shoulder because you had a bad day at work.”

“W-well,” I stammered, aimlessly grappling for another line of argument, “so, that’s what this is about? You’re tired of comforting me when I have bad days?”

“No, of course not--”

“So then, you’d rather I cook and clean, have the house spotless and dinner ready on the table when you get home from work?” Isaac didn’t say anything. A knowing grin spread across his face, accompanied by a playful twinkle in his eyes. He didn’t even have to say anything; at this point, his facial expressions were pissing me off. “Well? What the hell are you smiling about?”

“I’m not doing this with you anymore,” he said calmly. “I’m not engaging in this because we both know you instigate fights when you’re defensive. And you’re defensive because you know I’m right. You’re trying to spin this into a feminist issue, willfully ignoring my valid points. At this point, you’re just Fox News-ing soundbites to make me sound sexist.”

I snorted. “Fox News-ing soundbites? Really?”

“I thought I was talking to my wife, not Bill O’Reilly.”

“Wowww. You really just called me Bill O’Reilly to my face. Have fun sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Isaac chuckled.

I stared back, trying to appear unmoved, because it was at this moment that it occurred to me that I was kind of turned on. I was still angry, but now I was horny too. It was a biological response and completely out of my control. It was Isaac’s fault, the way he managed to keep a clear head and stay calm while calling out my bullshit. Not many people could do that.

It was why I married him. He could put me in my place. I needed that sometimes. Still, I didn’t like admitting I was wrong.

“You’re only hearing what you want to hear,” he continued. “You’re not listening to what I’m saying, so I’m not arguing with you anymore.”

“Fine, whatever. You’re the one who brought it up.” I threw my hands up in frustration and headed towards the bedroom door, stopping when he called out my name.

“Woah, slow down. Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he said.

I turned the knob and opened the door. “Um, I’m leaving? Since you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

“This is true. I’m done talking, but you’re not going anywhere.” He tilted his head and looked me up and down. Five years married, I still hadn’t built up an immunity to The Look.

“Why’s that?” I challenged. My defenses were crumbling with each passing second, my skin burning each time his eyes raked over my body.

“Because darling, you’re really hot when you’re mad, and having it out with you always turns me on. And I know you’re turned on too, so why don’t we stop talking in circles, and fuck. Now.” A few moments passed and we stared each other down, both waiting for the other to make the next move. “Come on baby, I can almost taste you from over here. And you look so good standing over there in nothing but panties and my t-shirt. Please come get in this bed with me, Mrs. Lahey.”

Shit. He pulled out the last name card. He knew what that did to me.

“Dammit,” I muttered, and stormed angrily across our room. I crawled over the mattress to straddle him. I peeled off my t-shirt and his fingers wrapped around my throat, reeling me in for a kiss, gnashing together teeth and tongue.

“You really know how to get under my skin,” I murmured against his soft mouth, weaving my fingers through his hair to tug on his curls.

“That's exactly where I intend to be,” he said.

Isaac’s hands traveled up my thighs and cupped my ass. He roughly squeezed it, then swiftly smacked my ass. I yelped at the unexpected contact, then moaned as he rubbed the stinging area. He spread apart my cheeks and moved aside my underwear. Isaac slipped a finger into my folds and spread my wetness over my clit, circling the bundle of nerves slowly. Whiny little moans started tumbling from my lips. I was mewling and riding his hand.

“How about you ride my cock? Or are you still mad at me?” he mocked.

I rolled my eyes, removing the covers from his naked body and putting my fist around his shaft, holding it steady so I could spit on the tip. I spread the slick saliva all over his cock while he fucked my mouth with the fingers he just took out of my pussy. He knew I liked sucking on his fingers. They were long and elegant and pretty and I loved the way they reached the back of my throat.

I continued to stroke him, albeit needlessly. “Well, that didn't take long,” I observed out loud, staring at his very hard cock. “You must really like it when I'm mad. Do you just piss me off on purpose, honey?”

Isaac smirked. “Like you’re complaining. You like makeup sex as much as I do. So why don't you stop messing around,” Isaac continued, gently extracting my hand from his cock and lifting my hips so he was positioned at my entrance, “and take me where you really need me?”

I scoffed. “Me, need you? I think it’s the opposite way around.”

“Is that so?” He removed his hands from my body altogether, sat back, smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. I stared back, unimpressed.

“Really.” I deadpanned. “You’re gonna stop now?”

Isaac shrugged. “It’s not like I need you.”

I glanced down. “Your raging boner suggests otherwise.”

“I can take care of that myself.”

“What, and pass this up? You like your hand more than my body?” Isaac remained unfazed, challenging me with one raised brow. “What was it you were saying earlier? Something about getting under my skin?” I wound my arms around his neck and kissed along his jawline. “Don’t you want to be inside me, baby?” Positioning myself on his thigh, I rode him the way I did the first time we fucked.

It was a while ago, but I still remembered our first time, the way Isaac’s mouth tasted like champagne and vanilla icing when I shoved him against his car, pulled him down by his tie, and kissed him.

“Remember the first time I rode you like this?” I asked. He grunted an affirmation. Isaac pressed his thumbs into my hip bones and guided my movements. His cocky pretense was gone, replaced by hazy lust. “It was right after Scott and Kira’s wedding. We fucked for the first time that night, and you made me come twice. In a fucking car.”

Isaac groaned. “You were incredible. I wanted you for so long and it finally happened.”

I let out a heady moan as my clit brushed against his leg in that perfect angle. “You felt so good inside me that night. I love the way you feel inside me, Isaac. Please, baby, I want you so bad, please fuck me...”

Isaac’s fingers weaved into my hair and he pulled me down to kiss me. “Are you fucking begging me?” In a flurry of movement, Isaac had me on my back, and positioned himself at my entrance. “This what you want?” He slid into me so fast and hard my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head.

My back arched away from the mattress, and he wrapped his arm around my torso as he slammed into me relentlessly. “Fuck, how do you always feel so good?” He grunted into my shoulder. Suddenly, he stopped. A whiny little noise escaped my throat. “Turn over. Good girl, now stick your ass out.” He slapped my ass again, leaving it stinging and aching for more. “Higher, just like that. Wanna fuck you just like that...”

For the second time, Isaac entered me, sheathed hilt-deep in my pussy. Tthe new angle was making it hard to stay on my knees. He put his hand on my hip to hold me in place.

“Isaac, fuck,” I moaned, “I’m gonna come.”

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my spine. “Good, me too,” he said.

Isaac snaked a hand around my hip and toyed with my clit. All the while he fucked me slow and deep, with his chest against my back, talking filth into my ear. My moans came out in silent mewls. Isaac’s pace was torturously slow.

“You hate it when I go slow like this, don’t you?” he muttered. “It’s too bad since I like taking my time with you.”

I could feel my orgasm bubbling up, so close to brimming over.

“Please, Isaac,” I moaned pathetically.

“Please, what?”

“Please let me come,” I whined.

“Shhh, baby, you’ll come soon enough. You’re just gonna have to be a little patient--oh, shit,” he said in response to me clenching around him. “Your pussy feels so fucking good, you’re so wet.” Isaac grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled, tugged sharply the way I liked it. “Is this what you wanted?” he muttered. He rubbed my clit in quick circles and rutted into me fast and deep. He came before me, and my walls milked out his orgasm before he sent me over the edge.

I dug my nails into Isaac’s shoulder as my body quivered. The jolts of pleasure continued for a good minute afterwards, and Isaac laid me on my side and cradled my body against him. He cupped my cheek and peppered soft little kisses all over my face.

“Shh, I got you,” he said softly.

When I finally came down from the high, in the clarity that followed, it occurred to me that I was no longer mad.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Don’t be. I told you angry sex would be good.”

I chuckled. “No, I mean that you were right. About all of it. I’ve been working too much. We barely see each other.”

He kissed my forehead. “S’alright. I just get worried about you. You’re so stressed out all the time. And I miss you.” Isaac moved his fingertips against my back, tracing lazy, comforting circles.

“I miss you too.” I snuggled deeper into his chest. “I’ll cut back on work. Wanna spend more time with you.”

“Is that right? You’re actually gonna listen to me?” He feigned shock.

I giggled and lightly punched his arm. “Shut up.” I pressed a contented kiss against his chest, right above his beating heart. “Love you,” I mumbled as I dozed off. Isaac’s fingers combed gently through my hair, lulling me into slumber.

“Love you more.”

fin.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #daniel sharman #daniel sharman imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #isaac lahey smut #dylan o'brien smut #daniel sharman smut

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marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: dis a long one HAHAH

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You groggily twisted in your bed as you tried to find the nagging nuisance that interrupted your peaceful slumber that barely lasted five hours. Your vision slowly focused as you rubbed your eyes vigorously, still searching for that damned alarm clock that you couldn’t seem to find.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, turning on the lamp beside your bed and hissing at the sharp light that was out to attack your pupils. The alarm clock, which somehow made its way onto the floor, read 7:00 AM, September 14th.

You scratched the side of your head, wondering why on earth your past self decided to wake you up this early on a random day.

Until it clicked.

September 14th. The Academic Decathlon competition that was being held in D.C. - the one your team had been preparing for months on end.

With all the ruckus that’s happened in the past few months, the competition was filed under the “unimportant events” cabinet in your mind. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to go. The only reason you were in decathlon was because you and Peter had a competition going to see who could get into as many after-school activities as possible while keeping their grades up. Plus, he said your intelligence would be an asset to the team.

It was stupid, really, but you both found joy in watching the other succeed, and at the time, Peter thought it’d be a push for you considering you were demotivated to study.

After he left you, you quit everything else besides decathlon. When you tried to, they told you you weren’t allowed to due to your name already being written down as one of the team’s members. You slacked off and often avoided going to the after-school practice altogether, hence why you forgot about it.

However, right now, it wasn’t a burden you had to bear. You were grateful for the upcoming distraction, and you thanked God Peter was somehow able to spontaneously quit the team the other day, the 'Stark Internship' granting him access to do so. Luckily for you, that meant some form of escape without having to be around him.

You felt yourself become lighter already, and you quickly got ready for the fast-approaching competition.

Once found your team waiting by the bus, you were greeted by a disoriented-looking Flash, making you giggle as you approached him while giving everyone you passed by a smile. “You look like shit.” You commented when you reached him at the back of the lengthy bus.

“I feel like it,” he groaned, his forehead pressing into the side of the vehicle, “I’m so not a morning person.”

You rolled your eyes and handed him the iced coffee you bought for him on the way, “I know, that’s why I got you this.” You said, shaking the beverage and holding it out for him, "Drink up, Eugene. We got people to beat. And before you ask, yes it has almond milk in it.”

He lifted his head and looked at the coffee in surprise, then back at you, “You’re a lifesaver.” He said, engulfing you in a hug so suddenly you had to hold onto the side of the bus to keep you both from falling back.

You teasingly shook your head and patted him on the back, “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

“I don’t disagree.” He said, pulling back and taking the coffee from your hands with a small ’thank you.'

You stared at him as he slurped on his drink and sighed in bliss, and wondered what it would be like if he treated everyone the way he treated you.

You knew of his past and understood why his actions came from a place of hurt and nothing more. During these past few months, Flash helped you open your eyes and made you more understanding of people. Especially those who tried to cover up their pain by pushing others away in self-preservation, in fear of showing others who they truly were because they were afraid of being hurt, taken advantage of, or even worse, mocked for it.

At the simple gesture of getting him coffee, he seemed shocked that you even remembered his order, let alone got him something. Your empathetic side was much stronger than you thought it’d be, you realized, your heart aching for the misunderstood boy who stood in front of you.

“What?” Flash inquired with furrowed eyebrows, capturing the metal straw once more (because plastic ain’t it).

You were about to make a joke about how you were staring at him to process how ugly he was when Abe gleefully yelled, “Hey, it’s Peter!” And pointed ahead of him.

You swore your heart stopped for a moment, the voice in your head repeating the word ‘no'.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around in astonishment to find that, yes, it really was Peter, in the flesh.

And he’s asking to rejoin the team, but you were still caught up in his presence.

And how much you hated it.

Of course he showed up. Last fucking minute.

Boiling anger shot up to your throat and escaped through your mouth with a growl, “No, no way,” you walked towards him, eyes burning with rage as he backed up, “You can’t just quit, make a grand last minute entrance and be welcomed back.”

Of course, he was welcomed back by all but you and Flash, but that didn’t make a difference to anyone else no matter how many times you whined and objected.

“One more smart team member couldn’t hurt,” Mr. Harrington said.

And that’s how he ended up taking his seat about two rows behind yours, as you and Flash took your designated spots in the front. All the memories of him being Spider-Man fogged up your brain like you couldn’t see anything but him in the suit. It was infuriating how just him being there seemed to fuck with you.

What really pushed you to the edge was that you caught him looking at you. And not just stealing glimpses, no, you mean full-on gawking.

The audacity, you thought, exhaling loudly through your nose.

You found it hard to answer Liz’s training questions correctly. How could you? You were consciously aware of his presence, and consciously aware that he could be hearing your thundering heart if he concentrated enough.

Okay, so you may have done a little bit of research about him and watched a couple of his one minute interviews with reporters. None of them explained how he got said powers, but in one he told the interviewer all his senses were far, far more advanced than normal humans.

You wondered if he ever got a sensory overload.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ring of a bell and his answer that followed, his voice echoing in your head. When you answered incorrectly for the second time, you decided to give it a rest. You plugged in your earbuds, raised the volume as high as it would go, and wished you could tune out your thoughts like you did to the world.

You were already awake when you reached your destination. While the rest of the students were in awe of how big it was, you and Flash weren’t.

Once all rooms were assigned, Peter and Ned immediately dashed to theirs without waiting to hear Liz’s plans to "act rebellious as a group". Normally, that wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but now that you knew about Peter’s little secret, you were skeptical. They must be doing something related to Spider-Man.

You ignored the dull pain in your chest.

And as much as you wanted to find out, you were drained. Thinking had seemed to take up most of your energy, which was something you needed in order to win. So, you grabbed your spare key card to the room you shared with Sally Avril and searched the second floor for Room 249 together.

Sally and you weren’t exactly friends, but you talked a few times and said hello to each other via a nod when you passed each other in the hallways. She agreed to be your science partner for this quarter’s project, and you knew that she was incredibly bright for her age, so you didn’t mind rooming with her for a while.

When the both of you were out of breath and complaining about your backs aching from your heavy backpacks, you thankfully found your room.

And, what do you know? It was exactly across the fucking hall from Peter’s.

You annoyingly rolled your eyes and hastily swiped your card on the card reader, pushing the door with your foot and throwing your backpack onto the bed before flopping on it with a groan, your tiredness leaving you and allowing anger to fuel you instead.

“You okay?” Sally asked, always the sweetheart, shutting the door and placing her own backpack on the bed, taking her possessions out.

“Just peachy,” you sarcastically mumbled, your face squished between the pillows. You could only describe their scent as hotel rooms, but they were cool enough to help put out a little bit of the fire that you still had within you. You took a deep breath and pushed yourself up, leaning on your elbows, “I’m gonna go check the gym out.”

A while back, you learned how to manage your anger by using it to your advantage. The excess adrenaline helped pump your energy and allowed you to finish your workout faster, which in turn made you stronger and defused the storm within you. You took your gym clothes to the bathroom and changed before yelling out a goodbye to Sally and exiting your room.

As you shut the door behind you, you looked up in time to make eye contact with Peter, who stood behind his glass window and froze upon meeting your eyes. You scoffed and turned away, and he sighed and continued closing the curtains to his room, obstructing anyone from seeing him remove the tracker from his suit.

When the clock struck 10 pm, you heard a secret knock that meant Liz was here to take your asses to sneak into the pool as a group. You tiredly tied your robe around your body as Sally opened the door, squealing and giving Liz a hug. The group was buzzing with excitement, and you weren’t 100% sure of it, but you were certain this was the most rebellious thing they’ve ever done.

It was adorable how innocent they were.

While the students ran down the hall, you slowed your pace down to walk beside Flash, who waited for you at the end of the line they formed and handed you a snickers bar - your absolute favorite.

“Aw,” you cooed, finger tapping his nose, "Is this a thank you for the coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Flash scrunched his nose and flicked your hand away.

“What's up with you lately?” You asked, peeling away at the bar’s wrapper and taking a large bite, “You’ve been so touchy and caring. I mean, you’ve given me more hugs this week than you have in your entire life.”

Flash’s ears turned red as he pursed his lips and looked down at his bare feet, “I’m not being touchy.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a tilted head and cocked eyebrow. He sighed, “You almost died, Y/n,” he admitted with a small voice, tracing all your scars with his eyes, "I don’t know, I just...I don’t want to lose you, you know? It was scary.”

Your demeanor softened and you gave him a gentle smile. Flash wasn’t one to open up and express his feelings properly, but it warmed your heart that he tried to with you. You wrapped your arms around him once more, calmly rubbing his back, “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

He snorted and pulled back, jabbing your side and making you squeal, “Yeah, who wouldn’t?”

You jokingly pushed at his shoulders, “I could give you a fucking list.”

The two of you laughed in the hallway as you looked up to see that you were almost at Peter’s door, where he stood there talking to Liz alone. Or, more accurately, both of them exchanging love eyes that made them fumble with their words and made a visible blush rise to their cheeks.

You rolled your eyes with disgust and gagged in revulsion while your heart clenched so hard you had to put a hand on your chest to make sure it was still beating.

And boy, was it beating, all right.

Flash was quick to notice your actions and tried to get them to separate, cupping his hands over his mouth, “Yo, loser,” he called out, making Peter turn, “Stay here. I’m sure Iron-Man is gonna need your help rescuing kittens that are stuck on trees.”

You let out a chuckle and grabbed Liz by her arm when you got close enough, “Come on, don’t waste your time with him. He’s got civil duties to get to.” You threw a deadly glance at him and dragged Liz with you to the pool, failing to notice Peter’s crest-fallen face.

Who cares about him, though? You were here to win a competition and get the trophy - maybe that’ll prove to your dad that you’re worth something, and if that fails, it’s still pretty cool to have accomplished something.

You ended up teaming up with Abe and successfully pushing Flash into the pool, high-fiving Abe before he canon-balled in himself. You giggled, watching your teammates gesture you to come in, but you shook your head and took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. Just come in for a minute.”

“I’m not a swimmer, Flash. I’ll be here, just not in there.”

Your body was aching from the lack of sleep and constant moving around. Plus, you really weren’t much of a swimmer. You quietly took a seat beside MJ as she read a book you once read as well, the chair making a screeching sound that made you cringe and alerted MJ of your presence.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, flipping to the next page and reading on, but somehow she saw you throw a glance at her.

“Nah,” you crossed your arms and leaned back, watching as Liz got splashed with water by both Cindy and Abe, who then proceeded to dunk Flash’s head in the water and high-fived, “just recognized the book, s’all.”

She hummed and nodded, and you saw her peek up at you from the corner of your eye, “Good taste. I’d like you if you weren’t a bully.”

“Guess you’ll never like me, then.” You replied, monotony lacing your voice, immediately putting an end to the conversation that was only beginning to bloom. You knew she was going to transform it into another ‘what you’re doing isn’t right’ lecture, but you’ve heard enough of it from Jane.

A tense silence settled between you two as her words settled in your mind. A bully. That’s exactly what you were seen as. You guessed people don’t exactly see what caused the change in behavior, but they see the change itself.

You placed the back of your head against the concrete wall and stared up, looking through the built in glass that allowed the moon’s light to bleed into the pool, fully brightening it up until the shadow of a figure covered the view. Him.

Him clad in his latex suit with a backpack on, hands holding the mask that would hide his identity from the rest of the world.

You saw him staring at her.

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, where it seemed to only cause a burning sensation - jealousy. You were looking at him while he was too busy looking at someone else, and that seemed to have followed you your entire life, even when you weren’t friends.

You gulped and turned away before you ever saw his line of vision move over to you, wondering and wondering.

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

The next morning, you stood in front of Flash’s room with your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can’t do this, Y/n,” He said, rubbing his forehead. His shoulders were rising and falling at a quick pace beneath your palms as he took shallow breaths, nerves practically spewing out of him.

Who knew Flash was a worry wort?

“Okay, Flash, listen to me,” you grabbed his face and tilted it towards you so you could look him in the eye, “This competition is just a competition. It doesn’t prove your worth to anyone.” That’s not what you thought of yesterday, "Your grades and results don’t determine how smart you are, all right? They’re just numbers and letters, and those don’t make up who you are. And besides,” you gestured to the group of people that were across the hall knocking on Peter and Ned’s door, “if you’re so worried, we’ve got a whole bunch of smart-asses who’ll make up for your stupidity.”

You gave him a teasing smile and relaxed when he shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’ve got this, Eugene.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head in affirmation, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got this."

“Attaboy! That’s the spirit!” You said, punching him in the shoulder and laughing when he held his arm in pain.

The concoction from the other side of the hall seemed to have risen above your laughter, making you and Flash exchange a look before running over.

“What’s going on?” Flash asked, causing everyone to turn.

“The boys won’t come out, and if they don’t we’ll be late,” Liz answered, checking the watch on her wrist and tugging the ends of her ponytail stressfully.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and elbowing your way through the crowd until you reached the door.

“Ned! Parker! Get the fuck out of this room or so help me God I will fucking break the door down!” You yelled, repeatedly slamming your fist on the door as it shook from the force.

To your surprise, the door immediately swung back to reveal a sweaty Ned and a missing Peter. Before he was going to say something, you asked, “Where is he?”

Ned stood there like a gaping fish, opening and closing his mouth with broken words falling out, “He..uh, he..won’t be able to make it?”

“He left?”

Ned took a shaky breath in and toyed with the hem of his shirt, “M-maybe..”

Typical Peter. Running away when he was needed.

“Of course he did,” you pinched the bridge of your nose then turned to Liz, “we’re just gonna have to leave without him.” You shrugged, watching as Liz’s shoulders deflated.

She looked mad, worried, and at the same time disappointed. You guessed it had something to do with whatever they were talking about yesterday.

You also guessed he left due to something that had to do with Spider-Man, but you didn’t have enough evidence to prove it to yourself. Regardless of how you wanted to feel, you started getting rather distressed. You wondered if he left after seeing you guys in the pool, where he was, if he was all right, why he hasn’t come back - all questions that could be answered by Ned, you realized. But you didn’t want to risk it.

So, you made your way to the competition with murmuring nerves and trembling hands. You blamed it on the competition, but you knew deep down that it was Peter’s absence that was troubling you.

Either way, you thanked God for MJ’s intelligence that won you the competition.

Hugs were being exchanged all around and pride flowed between your teammates as a golden trophy was handed to your team.

To celebrate, you made your way to the Washington Monument, where you’d be given a boring tour and promised an 'unforgettable view.’ However, there was a tugging feeling in your stomach as Flash asked Mr. Harrington if he could tell Peter that he was expelled. He still hasn’t shown up. Your mind raced with possibilities, and only got worse as the monument's elevator ascended.

Until it abruptly stopped and aggressively shook in its place, causing panic to spread among your group as dust fell upon everyone from the hole that seemed to have appeared above you, covering you from head to toe. Smoke began to fill the elevator’s confined space and-

And this was starting to feel like Delmar’s all over again.

You were frightened, hands shaking and tears welling up in your eyes as oxygen barely made its way into your lungs only to come out again. Your eyes were glued to the hole in the elevator’s roof, as if it’d somehow close up again if you stared at it long enough. It felt as if you were looking at the inside of one’s body - it was a sight you were never meant to see, and now, here you were, seeing it. You saw the wires and pulleys that kept the elevator in its place, and you couldn’t describe how wrong it was.

“Okay, guys, I know that was scary but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” The lady assured in the most tedious way possible. It was like you weren’t about to meet death himself. Like everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

“No, lady! No, we’re clearly not!” You yelled as you collapsed to the floor, clutching your head and rocking back and forth.

“Okay, Y/n, breathe, breathe.” Mr. Harrington crouched down to your level, inhaling and exhaling slowly as if that’d help you. You could hardly focus on anything but the fact that you felt like you were going to die.

Death seemed to chase you wherever you went, like you were cursed, and now these people were going to go down with you, with no superhero to come swooping in because you didn’t know where he was.

Oh my God, why is this happening?

Flash hastily looked around and pointed to a small opening on the side of the elevator, “We can open that! We can open that and get out through there!” He said, and the others got to work right away.

Ned carried the lady on his shoulders as she successfully pushed it open, allowing new air to come through, the group taking a large, collective inhale. Flash kneeled down beside you, and rubbed your back, promising you everything will be okay, which calmed you down enough to stand up.

You were still scared, hands were still shaking, but you knew you had to put others before you. So you concealed them from everyone’s view, and helped your teammates safely climb out to where a group of security guys was waiting to pull them out.

Cindy went up first, then Abe, Sally, and the dude with glasses you could never remember the name of, until you, Flash, Mr. Harrington, Liz, and Ned remained.

They all suggested you go first, but you refused and told them you’d be fine with assisting them. Flash was up next.

The minute he jumped off the elevator’s surface to grab ahold of the security guard’s hand, the wires which held the elevator in its place snapped and you began your fast descend, screaming into oblivion as your heart rattled inside your ribcage.

A strong force stopped the elevator from falling further for a second before it started falling again, not giving you enough time to catch your breath. It hit a large metal ground, hard, and that seemed to stop it and made you fall on your knees and bust the rest of the glass.

You breathed harshly, thinking it was over, basking in sweet relief until Spider-Man fell from the hole into the elevator and pushed it down even further, prompting the elevator to plunge at an even faster rate, and both Liz and Ned to let out an ear-deafening scream that made its way to your stomach, twisting and turning it while your knuckles turned white from the death grip you had on the railing.

There's your second chance at death, because apparently, one time wasn’t enough.

With his quick thinking, though, Spider-Man raised his arm and shot his web to the ceiling of the building, holding on as he planted his legs on the corner of the elevator, and pulling as it hung in the air.

He looked around the elevator, pausing for a second on your curled up body, before clearing his throat, “Hey, how you doin’?” He said, thickening his New York accent, “don’t worry about it, I got you.”

Ned - like he wasn’t about to fucking die - began fangirling over his best friend as he yelled out multiple 'yes's and bounced up and down, making the elevator’s wheels creak, threatening to fall once again.

"Hey, hey, hey, big guy! Quit movin’ around!” Spider-Man scolded Ned, his voice returning back to normal as he tugged on the web to slowly pull the lift up.

Your insides were still flipped and in all the wrong places, mind frozen as you sat on the ground, still rattled, with tears pushing hard against your waterline. Your breathing was loud and labored, which caught Liz’s attention.

“Hey,” she sat down beside you, voice husky, still half dazed herself, “we’re gonna be okay.” She said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself with her words, "We’re safe now.”

She paused for a moment, "I know what happened to you at Delmar’s-“ You saw Spider-Man’s head swerve towards the both of you for a second as you inhaled sharply. “-but you’re okay. We’re all going to be fine.”

You tilted your head towards her, tracing over her messed up hair and flushed cheeks, dirt painting her face but a small, hopeful smile sat on her lips. You managed to give her a nod and a squeeze of her hand in acknowledgment. Though it did nothing to calm you down, you were still grateful for her sincerity and effort in trying to do so.

“All right, everyone out.” Spider-Man demanded once you reached the level where the security guards were waiting. His grunting made it sound like he didn’t have as much time as he needed, and every person made their way out slowly but carefully.

You shakily stood on your legs, waiting for everyone to get out and counting down until it was your turn. Three, Ned was out first. Two, Mr. Harrington made it to the other side. One, Liz was safely out as she looked back at you and stretched her arm, palm open and awaiting your own.

You quickly skidded across the floor, and just as your skin touched hers, the web broke into two with a splick sound.

And for the next second you were falling to your death, all on your own.

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Tags: @peachescream06

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

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coconutstars · 4 years

Text

Right people at the wrong time p.IV

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Stiles + reader Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader and Stiles finally get to talk things out and figure out if they are, finally, the right people at the right time (of course they are, I’m not cruel) A/N: HELLO, HOLA, BONJOUR. This is it. This is the thrilling conclusion. It’s long, it’s cute and every chic-lit lovers dream. Fair warning, it’s not proofed at all so be ready for some mess- ups here and there. I did my best. Hope y’all aren’t too disappointed! Thank you for all the kind comments on the other parts, they’ve warmed my heart so much. Anywho, enjoy my lovely friends. ♡

[ :: ]

“So… are we just not going to talk about you and Stiles?” Kira was laying on your bed, flat on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows. Her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. It was the end of your first week and the two of you were cooped up in your room, eating chips straight out of the bag with a sappy soundtrack playing in the background. With a sigh, you lifted your gaze from the toenail you were painting. You could tell the curiosity as to why Stiles and you had been avoiding each other like the plague was eating Kira alive.

“It’s…” you began, searching for the right words to describe the situation. You really wanted to tell Kira about Stiles but where would you even begin? It wasn’t as simple as just ‘we had a fight two years ago’. There was so much more to it. Explaining it all would take time, and a lot of energy. It would mean having to tap into old feelings, insecurities and heartaches and you just weren’t sure you could deal with that right now. “Complicated?” Kira asked, interrupting your train of thought. Your lips curved into a soft smile. “Something like that” Kira let out a breath and rolled over on her back. “Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that” “Oh?” you questioned, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s Scott” she exhaled loudly. “I don’t really know where we stand” You nodded thoughtfully. You’d sensed that there was something between Kira and Scott. They’d get… mushy when they were around each other. Kira would get all flushed and Scott’s gaze would always linger just a little too long in her direction. “I mean not that we’re…we’re not dating or anything, or I mean, I don’t know if we are… it’s all confusing and when we’re talking” Kira stammered. “Hey” you interrupted calmly “Don’t worry, I get it” Kira let out a breath of relief and rolled over on her stomach again. Her eyes met yours and she curved her lips into at silent conclusion. “Complicated” You nodded in conformation, your smile mimicking hers. “Complicated” [ :: ]

“Uh… Apparently there’s a party going on” Kira exclaimed in the middle of the romcom you were watching. She angled her phone towards you so you could read the words on the illuminated screen.

From: Scott Received 9.42 pm. Hey I know it’s late but there’s a party at Danny’s. You coming?

You lifted you gaze to meet Kira’s. “You wanna…go?” she questioned slowly, biting down on her lip. You knew she wanted to; her body language practically scream it. You suspected it had something to do with the opportunity to be close to Scott. “Uh...” you made an indifferent gesture with your hand. “yeah sure” you said with a pressed smile. Truth was you’d rather stay home. You wouldn’t really know anyone at the party except for Kira and you really didn’t want to be third wheeling it with her and Scott, especially if they were trying to figure out their “are we or aren’t we” situation. So while they did that, you’d probably end up squeezed in on a couch between some passed out kid and a couple making out. Great. Kira must have sensed your unwillingness because she suddenly got up on her knees. “I mean-“ her voice was anxious “we don’t have to! Seriously! I love what we’re doing…” she stressed. You felt bad. If Kira had the chance to… evolve or clarify her feelings for Scott, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way. “Kira” you began with a calm smile. “It’s fine, I want to go” Her entire face lit up in a smile. “Really!? Cool” she jumped off the bed and started pacing like she didn’t know where to start or what to do. “Wait” she suddenly said, her smile fading. “I don’t really…”. She looked down at her leggings and zipped hoodie. “Don’t worry” you grinned “I got you”

[ :: ]

Stiles POV

It was crazy how often he thought of her. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. It wasn’t as simple as just walking up to her and going ‘hey sorry for being a dick two years ago’. He needed to show her he meant it but how was he supposed to do that when he could barely even look at her without the guilt taking over. Hell, just being near her fucked him up. His hands would get sweaty, his pulse would rise, and his ability to get out a coherent sentence would momentarily non-exist.

Once again, Stiles eyes searched the crowded room hoping to catch even a glimpse of Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. All he could see was a bunch of kids playing beer bong over a trashed kitchen table, a guy from the team puking in a corner while his friend filmed it with their phones and a girl from English making out with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend.

“She left ten minutes ago” a familiar voice declared. Scott appeared beside him, red solo cup in hand. Stiles considered playing dumb but knew there was no point. Scott was his best friend and brother; he didn’t have to be inside his head to know what he was thinking. Besides, he’d been picking up on his emotions all week. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me” Stiles answered truthfully “Wouldn’t be so sure of it, man” Stiles let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t even know what to say” Scott curved his lips into a crooked grin.

“Then figure it out”

[ .. ]

Y/N POV You’d convinced Kira to stay at the party. Not that it took a lot of effort. Scott and her had been talking non-stop ever since the two of you walked through the door. You on the other hand had been hit on by some drunk guy in a Hawaii shirt, offered molly from a girl who looked like she went to Sunday school and had your favorite top ruined by a freshman with shaky hands. He’d apologized and offered to have it dry-cleaned but everyone knew beer stains were textile hell, even for professionals.

Slipping into a pair of printed sweat shorts and a hoodie, you tied your hair into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything besides the bag of chips you’d shared with Kira. You’d planned on ordering pizza but got to busy getting ready for the party.

Raiding through the fridge you realized pretty quickly your parents hadn’t stocked the fridge before leaving for their “healing retreat” this weekend. It was some stupid trip their therapist had advised them to take every month to “heal the hole” in their marriage.

Closing the fridge, you grabbed a box of cereal with way too much sugar and made your way over to the couch. Taking a few seconds to flip through the different titles on Netflix, you ultimately settled on some new original series and watched passively while digging your hand into the box.

Getting back up, you were just about to grab something to drink when there was a knock on the door.

Shit.

Shit

Shit.

What the hell was Stiles doing here?

Full of panic, you stood in the hallway like a moron, chewing the mouth full of sugary flakes you’d stuffed your face with only seconds earlier. Why. WHY did he have to show up the one night you’d chosen to wear the shorts with fricken mermaids and seashells on them!? For a moment you considered pretending not to be home but realized pretty quickly that you couldn’t. The lights were on and your car was in the driveway. Besides, a part of you was kind of curious as to why he was at you house 11 p.m. on a Friday night when there was a party going on.

Running your hand over your mouth, you sure to get rid of any crumbs or powdered sugar before opening the door.

“Y/N!” Stiles exclaimed, almost surprised. He’d been running a hand anxiously through his hair but moved it towards you when you appeared in the doorway. “You’re…You’re here” You furrowed your brow; you were determined to act cool even though there was a storm of emotions raging inside you. “Yeah… I kind of live here” you said, going to fold your arms over your chest only to realize you were still holding the cereal box in your hand. Sigh. For once. Could someone give you a goddamn break

Stiles shifted his gaze and started flexing and unflexing his hands. “yeah, no, course” he cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence between you.

“so, you’re uh… probably wondering why I am here” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle. You nodded slightly; lips pressed together. You still couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.

Stiles cleared his throat again. Seems his plan of action only stretched as far as showing up at your house. “Yeah, so I came to say that…are you… eating that out of the box?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the cereal. “Yeah, so?” you asked defensively. “It’s dry” “I happen to not like milk” Stiles furrowed his brow. “What? You used to love milk? You literally drank like half a gallon when Melissa baked those fudge cookies for Scotts twelfth birthday” You remembered that party. You and Stiles were the only ones that came.

“Please, it was hardly half a gallon and I only drank it” you began, suddenly lowering your tone to a whisper “because those cookies were dry” You were acting as if Melissa was around the corner at risk of hearing you bash her baking skills.

“They were well-baked” Stiles whispered back. “More like burnt. They were literally black Stiles” For a moment it was like the two of you were kids again, sitting in Stiles room, discussing which superhero was the strongest. Stiles eyes searched yours and for the first time since seeing each other again, none of you looked away. “I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled softly. It was strange, and insanely cliché, but something inside you seemed to happen when he uttered those words. You wouldn’t call it heal but it was definitely along those lines.

“For what?”

The muscles in Stile’s jaw flexed. “everything” You looked down for a moment. Stile’s voice was low, and you could tell by his tone that he was being genuine. “I didn’t mean it” he continued. “I was mad, and…” he threw up a hand before letting it fall again “I snapped. I shouldn’t have but I did. But none of it meant anything”. “It’s fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have said those things about Lydia..especially since the two of actually....” For a moment it looked like Stiles had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. “Oh” he said as the realization hit. “Oh no, no me and Lydia aren’t... we’re friends. No, you were right about us” He paused for a moment. “My feelings, what I felt for Lydia...It wasn’t-” he searched for the right words. “Real. I made this, I had this idea of who she, of who I...” he shook his head. “anyway it doesn’t matter. What does though is that I never should have said the things I did. I ruined everything and...” He looked at you with such an intensity you wanted to look away but forced yourself not to.

“I’m sorry” You leaned your body against the doorframe. You hadn’t realized how much you’d craved an apology until you got one. Suddenly it was like your hurt and anger didn’t matter as much as it used to. Perhaps it was the raging crush or mere wishful thinking, but you believed him. Believed him when he said he hadn’t mean it. A part of you must have always known, or at least hoped, that your friendship had been to real to not have meant something to him.

Your tone was low and soft. “It’s okay”

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll do...”

You had a feeling the sentence was going to end with something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything to fix our friendship’ or something equally as cheesy and you had to stop him. Not because it would be awkward as hell but because he needed to know you still had a crush on him and that being friends probably wasn’t the right way to go. You wish you could handle a friendship, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t be around with him without being with him. Your heart ached for him and knowing he didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him made it impossible to be near him.

“Stiles…” you began, creasing your forehead. “I don’t think we can be friends” Your words clearly took him by surprise. “What? Why? Is it because?... I mean is it because of what I said? I swear, I really didn’t…” “It’s because I’m still love with you” you blurted. There was a moment of instant regret and you could feel every fiber of your body wanting to slam the door in his face, dive into bed and hide under the covers for the next few years.

Stiles stood there looking at you for what felt like hours. You sucked in a breath, feeling the panic in your chest “So… yeah that’s why and…”. Warm hands found their way to your cheeks and before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Stiles had pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. It took a few seconds but when you were finally able to wrap your head around what was happening, a rush of ecstasy ran through you and you eagerly kissed him back.

“Stiles” you whispered after a while. You didn’t want to end the kiss but knew you had to. Stiles, however seemed to have other plans and started trailing his lips down your jaw down to your neck.

“Stiles, I’m literally standing on my front porch, dressed in mermaid shorts, holding a box of Frosties”

With a laugh Stiles pulled back. “Yeah, I meant to comment on those mermaids” he said. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to walk back into the house. Stiles arms instantly found their way to your waist and he pressed you to him as he walked behind you. “What? I was going to say there are very fashional” “It’s fashionable, and I know” you said, not being able to hold back your smile. It was insane.

Seems like the two of you were finally the right people at the right time.

Taglist: @loulouloueh

#Stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #imagine stiles #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x you #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n

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