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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

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All Over Again - Chapter 10

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Ch. 9

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A loud groan sounds as booted feet stomp into the Quinjet.

Tension twists in the air, wrapping around each member of the team as they move about in silence.

Sam, having just been the one groaning, frustratedly throws his mission issued earpiece into the wall. The little device breaks on impact, plastic chipping and sliding across the jet floor.

Your eyes linger on a single broken piece, hands clenching into fists around the edge of the seats beside you.

That priority mission that you’d all been preparing for for weeks just ended horribly. And you can’t figure out how everything went south.

One second you all were neutralizing the last of the threat, yourself and Sam heading toward the containment cells. And the next, the super powered that was supposed to be locked inside the cell was attacking you.

They were quick, calculating. Every move you made they made a smarter, faster one. The fight left the two of you bruised and battered physically and mentally.

Admittedly this could’ve been much worse, had Wanda not been there to calm the brute there’s no telling what would’ve happened to you and the Falcon.

Said younger woman watches you with sad eyes. Losing sucks for her too but she can tell that it’s affected you a bit more. With a sigh, she moves to sit beside you, gentle fingers wrapping around your clenched ones.

While your body relaxes at her touch, your posture remains stiff, eyes unmoving. All she can do is scoot closer, laying her head on your shoulder.

With there being nothing to say the flight back to the compound is quiet. Wanda offers you her comfort the best she can and you accept it.

The little bit that you do start to feel better goes away the instant the jet lands. You all head straight to debriefing and having to convey your failure to Steve makes you all the more upset.

Among the many things you hate, failure is top of the list. Especially in instances such as these.

You’d extracted enhanced individuals a number of times before, you know how to do it and how to do it damn good. To suddenly not do it well, makes you question yourself.

It’s as you’re walking to your room that you encounter yet another frustration.

Well she isn’t exactly a frustration, or she wasn’t. With what has recently happened between yourself and the redhead there’s a tension in the air that could very well suffocate you.

Even though she’s been giving you the space you asked for, you don’t miss those unreadable looks she gives you whenever you’re in the same room. And you know for a fact that she’s been talking to Wanda about you. The younger woman wouldn’t tell you what about specifically as she never wants to break Natasha’s trust in her, but she did tell you that Natasha asks about you. Having done the same in the past, you aren’t going to make a big deal of it and in a way, a small way, it’s nice to know she still cares.

Stopping in front of you, the redhead opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it to think. It takes a second for her to settle on,“ hey,” a hesitant pause,“ how was the mission?”

The heavy sigh you give makes her frown,“ not well. We lost the target.” Just repeating it makes you want to punch something.

“Oh,” she grimaces. An awkward silence settles and instead of staying in it, you nod and retreat down the hallway to your room.

Despite what use to work, the shower you take does absolutely nothing for your sour mood. In fact, other than soothing your aching muscles, the time you spend in there thinking about what happened pisses you off even more.

You weren’t good enough to neutralize the target and now there’s no telling where they are and who they’re hurting. All these years spent trying to protect people and now you’re the very reason there’s a threat to innocent lives.

Being so lost in thought, you hadn’t realized you were squeezing the life out of your phone. You slip it into your pocket before you break it and exit the room promptly.

With a single destination in mind, you head down the hall, and straight back to the meeting room. As expected, Steve is still inside, eyes flickering over the mission reports you all filled out and the pre-mission information. You don’t expect Natasha to be just at his right as well but you don’t linger on that.

“Captain,” your hands press against the glass surface of the table,“ when are we going to look for this guy?”

His eyebrows pinch together as he looks up at you,“ Y/n we can’t do anything yet.” A sympathetic look masks his face which doesn’t help,“ I know this loss was big but-”

“This loss could lead to a lot of people getting hurt unnecessarily. That enhanced individual almost laid myself and Sam out and managed to escape even after Wanda got to him so just imagine what they could do to innocent unsuspecting civilians. We can’t sleep on this, if we don’t move soon somet-”

Natasha butts in, eyes as soft as ever,“ Y/n we aren’t sleeping on this. We’re going to catch this guy but if we rush in we can do more bad than good.”

Steve nods along,“ just try to relax. There’s already a team on standby when we’re ready to move.”

Your eyes narrow,“ I take it I’m not on that team.” Both of their silence is answer enough. So with a nod, you turn and leave.

Why you weren’t on the team you don’t know. If you aren’t then you’re assuming neither are Wanda and Sam. This whole thing is about as personal to you as it is to everyone else. But you trust Steve’s leadership so whatever reason he has must be good.

Doesn’t mean you aren’t still frustrated.

In terms of instant relief, the message from Lena that comes through is number one. Just seeing her name alone decreases your heart rate.

To then see that the message is a picture of her and your new found friends with the message ‘missing you’ beneath makes your heart soar.

Suddenly you’re wondering how insane it’d be of you to fly out to NC. It wouldn’t be the first time so not too crazy. And you know that seeing Lena would make just about everything better.

That’s how you find yourself, hours later after having prepped weapons for the team's mission, spoken with Cap, and talked to Wanda(who obviously understands your decision and supports it unwaveringly), stepping off a plane into National City airport.

You text Lena the second you’re in a car to find out where she is. Then telling the driver and sitting back, a little anxiously, for the ride to Al’s.

When you get there, you thank them with a tip, and head into the bar with your duffle bag in hand. E/c eyes scan the building for the familiar group and before you can even spot them, your name is called very excitedly, and you’re enveloped in a strong hug seconds later. A blonde ponytail flips past your view as you return Kara’s hug.

“It’s so great to see you.” She pulls away to reveal her bright smile,“ hi!”

Her enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips as well,“ hi.” That smile instantly grows as the brunette you’ve been longing to see walks over. Subconsciously you bite your lip, taking in the sight of her in her usual business attire, mainly the way those heels make her legs look even better.

Lena stops in front of you, a happily surprised look in her eyes. As you two focus on each other, Kara takes slow quiet steps back.

“Hope it’s okay that I just showed up, I didn’t have the best day and really needed to see you.” You give your honest explanation in hopes that you don’t seem crazy for flying across the country in the middle of the day.

The CEO’s expression softens even more, her hand reaching for yours,“ you okay?” Her eyebrows pinch together, thumb stroking the back of your hand, and she steps closer a little.

“Not really, it was pretty bad,” you sigh at the thought alone,“ seeing you makes it better though.” With your words you lean in and kiss her, a hand resting on her hip.

Lena melts into it, hand gripping yours a little tighter as she presses further into the kiss. Weeks without your lips definitely did her in. She’s positive she won’t be able to let you go this time around.

Finally pulling apart, only to quickly kiss once more, Lena tugs your hand towards the booths of your friends.

“Hey everyone.” You smile and wave.

After a round of hugs and handshakes and being introduced to Kelly, James’ sister, you sit down beside Lena. The woman leans into you and you’re happy to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

While the drinks and company are good, you still can’t bring yourself out of the rut your failed mission has put you in. Through your short laughs and on and off smiles, Lena picks up on it.

“Hey um,” she leans forward to look at everyone, grabbing the majority of their attention,“ I’m getting a little tired so we’re gonna go but we’ll see you all tomorrow night?”

Kara’s the first to “awww” but nods understandingly. Yet another round of hugs is given before you and Lena are leaving out. She maintains her hold on your hand, occasionally looking up at you with a slightly worried expression. In all the time she’s known you she’s never seen you so torn up over something. Her plan is to find out what’s on your mind and fix it asap.

So the second you’re in her apartment she’s fixing your usual drink and bringing you over to the couch.

“Thanks,” you smile softly and sip the drink. The familiar burn of the scotch warms your insides and you give an almost inaudible sigh.

“You want to tell me why your day was so bad?” Lena asks, taking a sip of her wine, and easing back into the couch.

In one quick move, you turn and lay yourself across the couch, resting your head on Lena’s lap. An action that Lena welcomes with a soft smile, her heart swelling instantly.

The woman sets her glass of wine to the side and hesitantly cards her fingers through your hair. Her soft touch is incredibly comforting. You find yourself nearly melting at the feeling, then remembering what she asked.

There’s only so much you can tell her about the mission, especially seeing as it’s still pretty open ended. What you can tell you do and it’s enough for her to understand why you’re so upset.

Groaning, you tilt your head back, further into her touch.“ - truthfully I just needed this. If I could have exactly this after every mission I’d be the happiest person alive. Scotch and you.” To emphasize your point, you take another quick sip of the drink and scoot further into Lena.

“Well,” she chuckles softly,“ if you lived here then you could have it.”

You freeze. Nothing moves but your eyes, e/c orbs landing on green as you search for seriousness. Finding it makes an eyebrow raise. Swallowing, you shift up a bit, elbows pressed into the cushions as the backs of your arms brush Lena’s thighs.

It’s clear questioning in your eyes that has Lena’s head tilting to the side. A quick teasing smile hits her lips,“ what you don’t trust that I’m a good roommate?”

“What no I- would you seriously want to live together? You don’t think that’d be moving too fast?” You ask. Moving too fast could very well cause this whole thing to end in shit and you didn’t want to risk that.

The brunette shrugs,“ I don’t think so. I already know I love you Y/n and just these past few weeks without you has me more than willing to be with you everyday. If you don’t want to that’s okay but I’d be more than happy.”

Her words settle in your mind. While thinking about them, you end up lying back down. Lena’s eyes remain on you. She occasionally sips her wine and brushes her fingers across your hairline.

Living with Lena would be incredible. Having spent a few nights with her here you can’t say you don’t love the idea of waking up to her every morning and possibly going to sleep with her every night. But moving would be more than just living with Lena.

You’d definitely be leaving Wanda. Not having your best friend around daily, now that would suck. Moving would include becoming a remotely working Avenger or just leaving the team in general. What you lose in the team you’d gain in your friends here in NC.

But then there’s finding a job that would fill that void in you. Helping people is you’re calling and you aren’t sure if being a cop or something would hold the same weight. And it’s not like you could walk up to Supergirl and the DEO and request a job.

“What’s going on in that genius brain of yours?” Lena’s voice is soft, as if she doesn’t want to startle you.

Sighing, you tell her how you’d love to live with her but then share the drawbacks of moving from New York to National City.

Her quirked eyebrow makes you curious.“ I could help with the job part.” She says with a proud little smirk.

“Yeah?”

“I work at the DEO.”

“Huh?” You frown, sitting up completely and turning to face her,“ I thought you worked at L-Corp.”

She nods,“ I do but I also work at the DEO. It was a brilliant business decision and a better way to help people. When the government supports your business there are more liberties.”

Point noted. She is right though.

“Are you sure you want to live with me? My team would argue that I can be annoying. If you don’t believe me ask Wanda.” You say.

Lena’s fingers reach up and brush your cheek before she leans in and kisses you gently,“ I’m sure I can handle it.” She tells you, earning a soft chuckle in response. Her eyes scan your face and brighten with hope at the look she finds.“ You gonna come live with me Y/nn.”

You can feel the heat rush to your face at the nickname she uses but it’s cute, especially coming from her.

“I’d have to tell the team, square some things away, have a long talk with Wan, and make sure I get that DEO job,” you ramble off, noticing that Lena’s expression remains the same,“ yes I’m gonna move in with you.”

The brightest smile you’ve ever seen lights up her face and she wastes no time in pulling you into a hug. Her lips press a quick kiss to your neck in excitement,“ I can’t wait. And you don’t have to worry about the DEO job. I know you’re more than qualified.”

When she pulls away, she tells you,“ leaving your home won’t be easy but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

“I love you so much Lena Luthor.” You tell her.

“I love you too.” She kisses you for good measure.

As the two of you decide to go make something to eat, and that conversation replays in your head, you start to think of how you’ll tell the team and how they’ll react. Either way, you know you really want to live with Lena.

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Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @starlingelliot @vxidnik

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

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Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #protective!sam #jealous!sam #huffy!sam #sam winchester fluff #spn #supernatural #fanfic #fanfiction #mini series #sttc #my writing #text

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cassianus · 3 years

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Purity of Heart in the Writings of the Philokalia

What is the purpose of the asceticism and repentance that have been described in the previous posts? Again, it is a question the Fathers often asked of themselves, realizing how easy it is to make these practices ends rather the means to an end. As with so many things in life we can be investing a lot of energy, working very hard but lose sight of where we are heading or what we are seeking. In this the spiritual life (as we often make it) can become, strangely enough, analogous to an infatuation. The word infatuation comes from in-fatuous which means “false light”. Following a false light is the experience often had by those traveling in the desert at night. They believe they see a light in the distance and so set out to reach it and find warmth and comfort for themselves. However, it is actually an optical illusion and more often than not they would travel a great distance, expending much effort, only to realize that what promised light and warmth was nowhere to be found.

Thus, knowing what our immediate purpose and ultimate end are in the spiritual life is essential and there is no better place to begin than with those who walked the path, the “narrow way,” before us. In particular, there is a notable conversation on this very subject in the Philokalia. John Cassian and his fellow monk and friend Germanus travelled from Gaul to Egypt in the 4th century to live with the Eastern monks in the Nile delta in order to bring back the wisdom of the Hesychast tradition to the West. For nearly 20 years they lived with the monks and hermits in order to observe their way of life and learn from their collective wisdom.

In the first volume of the Philokalia we find Cassian and Germanus engaged in a discussion with Abba Moses who puts this question to them:

“‘You have given up your country, your families, everything worldly in order to embrace a life in a foreign land among rude and uncultured people like us. Tell, what was your purpose and what goal did you set before yourselves in doing all this?’ We replied: ‘We did it for the kingdom of heaven.’ In response Abba Moses said: ‘As for the goal, you have answered well; but what is the purpose which we set before us and which we pursue unwaveringly so as to reach the kingdom of heaven? This you have not told me.’ When we confessed that we did not know, the old man replied: ‘The goal of our profession, as we have said, is the kingdom of God. Its immediate purpose, however, is purity of heart, for without this we cannot reach our goal. We should therefore always have this purpose in mind; and, should it ever happen that for a short time our heart turns aside from the direct path, we must bring it back again at once, guiding our lives with reference to our purpose as if it were a carpenter’s rule. . . .If we forget this purpose we cannot avoid frequently stumbling and losing our way, for we will be walking in the dark and straying from the proper path’” (Philokalia, Vol. 1, 95).

Yet, what is this purity of heart of which Abba Moses speaks? Throughout the Philokalia it is described in various ways but most often the Fathers speak of purity as having God at the center of all of our thoughts, words and actions - having God as our one true desire, our beginning and end. Anthony Coniaris captures this with great clarity and simplicity:

“Purity of heart is not, first and foremost, a matter of avoiding all sorts of bad things; it is more so, desiring one supreme good above all. It is to want one thing, to focus our whole life on that one thing. What is that one thing? It is to know God, love HIm, and serve Him with all our mind, heart and soul and strength. When you are pure of heart, you place all your focus on what God wants of you. You want to be godly, a person of integrity. Your deepest desire is for God, not for the approval of people. Thus, purity of heart means loving all people and having a single supreme purpose and direction, not being double minded and unstable (James 1:8). Such purity or singleness of heart leads to illumination which, in turn, leads to glorification and union with God” (Coniaris, “A Beginner’s Introduction to the Philokalia”, 122-123).

Here we begin to see why purity of heart is so important, why it is the purpose of our asceticism, and something to which we must be entirely and exclusively consecrated. Alphonse and Rachel Goettmann in their work “Prayer of Jesus, Prayer of the Heart” express it ever so pointedly:

“To be on the way with a divided will, a small fraction of our energy and a mental hesitation, leads nowhere! We must break radically with our habits, with our way of being and introduce into ourselves - through a decisive act which shakes our whole nature - a new idea force, a consecration of our energies to Jesus Christ so complete that to live from Him becomes for our heart the only desire, and for our will the only activity in all that we live and do. . . .all life becomes a single adoration. Behind everything, there is the presence: we must feel it always and everywhere, awaken to its constant, intimate, enveloping nearness, intensely perceive it and commune with it in every moment. To turn all our emotions toward the presence of Christ is the most intense way of purification for the heart. Sooner or later ‘the pure in heart will see God,’ will feel Him, touch Him, hear Him, smell Him” (155-156).

Indeed, the more we are purified the more we shall see. This is captured in exquisite fashion by St. Maximus the Confessor who wrote in the 7th century:

“If, according to the words of the Divine Apostle, Christ dwells in our hearts by faith and in Him ‘are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge’, then in our hearts are to be found all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. And they (these treasures) are revealed to the heart according to the measure of purification of each person by the commandments. This is the ‘treasure hid in a field’ of your heart, which you have not yet found because of your inaction. For if you had found it, you would have sold all that you had and bought that field. But you have abandoned that field and work nearby, where there is nothing but thorns and thistles. Therefore, the Savior says, ‘Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.’ They will see Him and the treasures that are in Him, when they purify themselves by love and self-mastery; the more they are purified, the more (of God) will they see.”

Ultimately, the importance of purity of heart lies in our destiny. “The more of God’s love and mercy we receive, the more we commit ourselves to Him, the more we love Him and serve Him, the more we shall be able to experience His kingdom within us, and the better prepared will our eyes be for the brilliance of heaven” (Coniaris, 132).

#purity of heart #philokalia

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princeanxious · 4 years

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Trust is a Fragile, Fickle Demon.

Pairing: Analogical

Fandom: Sanders sides

Warnings: hurt/comfort, happy ending, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of mental abuse, mentions of abusive parent, mentioned of past betrayed trust, trust issues, let me know if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 1.9k words

(A/n): this is sort of a short one, idk that im very proud of it, its written a little differently than I normally write so let me know if ya’ll like it? I tried!

Trust was something earned, gained, given, not expected. At least, to Logan, thats how it’d always been. The omega had learned young the mistake of trusting anyone so readily, a freely given token of connection that only served to hurt him in the long run.

Even now, Logan was aware his upbringing had been slightly rougher than his common peers. His therapists all readily, or subtly, pointed out that his alcoholic alpha of a single father who never should have been a parent to begin with was undoubtedly the root cause of many of his issues.

First of all of them was the lasting trauma of the emotional abuse he’d endured as a child and teenager. Never smart enough, never quiet enough, never clean enough. He was never enough, he was never going to be enough. He was a weak, broken, and useless omega in his father's eyes, and would never amount to anything more. And while he never wanted to believe it, often said he never believed any of it, he could only confidently say he didn’t truly believe even just part of it by the time he was 23.

Another was that he’d never been given any freedom to do as he pleased when he was younger. He never got to visit friends or do anything more fun than read at the library(and boy did he read any chance that he got back then). His first real social outing was when Roman, his then longtime college roommate and current best friend, had playfully offered for him to come join him to go buy icecream at midnight. But, that story is better saved for a different time.

All you need to know is that, that midnight ice cream became a bi-weekly routine, and the other omega learned more about Logan than he thought he’d ever get out of the closed off nerd that night. Perhaps one could even go so far to say that Roman was the reason Logan ever even dared to go to a therapist in the first place.

Logan had become very stunted from the childhood neglect he’d endured. Omegas had many self-soothing mannerisms built into their primal instincts to comfort themselves when stressed, like purring when upset(was well as when happy or content!) and nesting to decompress or hide in a safe zone when stressed. And well, Logan had pretty much stifled his purring by the time he was 14, and.. Completely stopped nesting by the time he was 9.

There had been no point, and both had become increasingly dangerous to do as he grew older. Anytime his father caught him purring, the Alpha would berate him for being ungrateful, seeing it as a weakness. And no matter how well he’d try to hide his safety nests, his father would inevitably find them and destroy them. Far too many afternoons were ruined when he came home to find his father in a drunken stupor and his newest safe haven wrecked beyond repair, and stinking to high heaven of alcohol and aggressive, angry alpha pheromones.

So he gave up. He gave up trying to make the nests in hopes for comfort, in hopes for a safe haven to hide away. The longest he’d gotten was hiding away in his closet for periods of a time before his father decided it didn’t deserve a closeable door anymore.

Roman had been horrified, and promptly dragged the other omega into his own nest in distress. They spent hours like that, Logan sobbing and tucked up tenderly into Roman’s protective embrace as the omega purred and crooned comfortingly enough for the both of them.

It would be Roman to encourage Logan to begin nesting again. They’d made a whole day out of it, going out and buying brand new nesting materials along with comfort food and rented movies. Slowly but surely, Logan rebuilt his nest for the first time in a little over 10 years, and he was in heaven. And day by day, every time he came home to it intact and undisturbed, Logan’s psyche was assured just a little more that the nest was safe, that he was finally safe.

And no one could really be surprised that Logan became viscerally protective of his nest, even more so than the average omega, at that. The first time they realized this, one of their mutual friends, a beta named Patton, had suddenly come close to his nest in excitement over the new addition. Logan had snarled loudly and aggressively before he’d even processed moving to guard his nest from the approaching threat. When Patton had taken multiple careful steps back in shock, Logan finally snapped out of the defensive mindset and realized what had happened. He’d apologized profusely, and was quick to try and make amends.

Patton understood the justified reaction after some light explanation and waved off the apologies immediately. Logan, though mortified at his own surprising lapse in control, was grateful that there had at least been no hard feelings in the end.

Safe to say, their friend group and subsequently any new friends made in the future would be warned, “Don’t approach, or touch, Logan’s nest.” And it was fine. Things were even looking up, Logan had started truly healing, and trusting people started to become a little less difficult!

So it would really come as a surprise to everyone, let alone Logan himself, when he started developing a small crush on the kind and patient(if a little anxious) Alpha who nearly daily visited the library Lo worked at to study. It was an honest shock, but, perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world..?

Logan had never seriously considered dating another until Virgil came around, and the prospect of dating an alpha was frankly terrifying. But, Virgil was nice, he was caring and gentle with him, and yet unwaveringly respectful. He’d listen to Logan ramble about stars for hours and never interrupt him, only asking questions when Logan’s voice lulled or allowed him to speak. Virgil encouraged this, wanting Logan to open up and ramble and talk without fear of being shut down.

Roman had told Logan it was obvious Virgil was crushing hard on Logan, that they both had it bad for one another it seemed. Of course, nothing had to come of it if Logan didn’t want it to! But the thing was, he did. He did want something to come of it, if at the very least they could just remain friends.

It took a few more months, but Virgil eventually worked up enough confidence to ask Logan out, and the unwavering, almost immediate ‘Yes,’ had almost taken Virgil off guard. They wouldn’t share their first kiss for another few weeks, but neither of them minded.

Virgil slowly but surely was given the whole story, and expressed his own quiet outrage in the form of promising to never let that happen again, nor let Logan’s father near him again. It was a protective sentiment that almost scared Logan, but the protectiveness was born out of love and compassion, not selfishness and hate. So he let it slide, and contently tucked himself into Virgil’s warm embrace with a soft “thank you,” and the first very soft but very happy purr that he’d let out in years.

This alpha, he’d find him telling himself a year and a half into their relationship, this alpha was the one that would be allowed into his nest.

It didn’t bother Virgil personally, that he wasn’t allowed into his omega’s nest. No one was allowed near the nest except him, and even then he still got growled at plenty. He was completely aware that Logan had a deep instinctual fear of the destruction of his nest, sewn by the only parent he’d had growing up doing just that out of malice. Logan had made strides in his journey of healing though. The omega was confident in himself, and refused to be pushed aside or spoken over. Logan was highly independent, even during his heats, which made Virgil feel all the more love for him to be let into his omegas life.

Logan wasn’t dependent on him like society demanded he be, and Virgil didn’t mind in the slightest, because he knew Logan. He loved this omega and knew said omega loved him back. That was all that mattered to either of them.

It took another half a year before Logan finally tried breaking down some of his protective walls over his nest. He was tired, so tired of the separation. Having Virgil's scent heavily entwined with objects in his nest wasn’t enough anymore. At two years into their relationship, Logan’s instincts didn't feel the need to growl at Virgil for being near his nest anymore. He wanted Virgil in his nest, and that thought was jarring to realize.

And when he’d brought it up, Virgil had been quick to assure him that he didn’t have to force himself to let Virgil in, that Logan’s safe space was sacred and he never wanted Logan to feel pressured by anything to let him in.

Perhaps Logan kissed him soundly after that, and was reminded just how much he really loved Virgil. Virgil's insistence for Logan's comfort coming first only made him want to pull his alpha into his nest that much more.

But still, he agreed to take it slowly. Every day, Virgil would scoot a little closer to the edge of the nest, would hold Logan’s hand and stroke his hair, even sometimes daring to slowly lean over and kiss him with prior warning.

It took a full week to really prove to Virgil during their progress that they were ready to take this next step, that Logan truly and fully trusted Virgil and wanted him in his nest.

And when it finally happened, they’d made a little date out of the occasion, setting up snacks and candy, ordering take out and lining up a few documentaries to watch on Virgil’s laptop, getting into their nightclothes.

Virgil had been beyond nervous, and Logan understood why. They managed to soothe each other as everything fell into place, and Logan carefully walked Virgil step by step into his nest. With careful movements, they sat down and Virgil let himself be carefully arranged as he was leaned back into the nest. It took a second for Logan to finish tucking things against Virgil and pull a weighted comforter over them before he finally settled himself onto Virgil’s chest.

Despite their original nervousness towards the idea, everything felt right, now. Logan felt so unbelievably safe now that he was tucked into his alpha’s arms within the cocoon of his nest. It was amazing in its own right. And it takes Virgil chuckling lovingly for Logan to notice just how content they both are.

“You’re purring like crazy, L,” he murmurs with a smile, running his fingers up and down Logan’s rumbling back, “If you’re not careful you might fall asleep before we even get through the first documentary.” Logan just grins back, tilting his head to peck Virgil on the cheek.

“I see no downside to that, V, considering I’ll be falling asleep in my alpha’s safe embrace. What more could I ever want?”

Virgil flusters and hides his face in Logan’s hair as the omega laughs, hugging the other closer. Logan eventually does fall asleep in the middle of the second documentary, cuddled close and relaxed.

And really, there was no other place Logan would rather be.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #luka writes #trigger warnings may apply #tw abuse mention #tw neglect mention #tw trust issues #tw childhood neglect #tw childhood trauma #hurt/comfort #happy ending #let me know if i need to tag more!#omegaverse au

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trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

chambers - xx

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 2.8k

description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

note: thank you guys so much for being with me for this series, the first one i’ve posted. the first chapter sat half written in my drafts for almost a year before i decided to finish it and post and i’m very happy that i did. thank you so much for reading and i hope to see you on the next one!

if you have any questions about the series always feel free to message me.

Their names are Allan and Rosa. Your parents who were born, raised, and still live in Philadelphia. Your Mom always in a pair of scrubs and hair in a messy bun before messy buns were even a thing. Your Dad wore glasses and had a fully grey beard, his hair almost fully grey now with age. They taught you how to ride a bike, even though your Mom had been terrified. You remembered your Dad holding the bars over your shoulders and helping you down the street, your little heart beating so fast with excitement.

They taught you to read and write, cuddled under your Mom’s arm as she read you whatever you wanted her to read, pretty covers of books you couldn’t quite understand. Tales of dragons and elves, princesses and epic battles, books on romance. She’d read to you every day. In the hospital unconscious or in your childhood bedroom.

As you grew older and your health problems began to escalate. First heart, then the second. You started enjoying those little things more.

Sudoku with your Dad while he sat next to your hospital bed. Your Mom had a spin with needlepoint that the two of you attempted and your crude flowers sat framed in the living room to this day.

They were always there, all your band recitals, even though you were terrible at the violin. At every science fair. At every school function. They always showed up.

“You were our gift from God.” Your Mother had told you. “We knew you were meant to be ours the second we laid our eyes on you.”

They’d never been able to have children. That’s what they told you and Bucky when you’d gone to see them. They desperately wanted a child, and when they heard about you. How sickly you were. Their hearts broke.

“We thought we’d only have you for a short period of time.” Your Dad was emotional, dabbing his eyes. “We were fortunate enough to have you survive.” No one had wanted you. Not when they thought you were going to die.

“You were a frail thing.” Your Mother said, “You looked like you were at deaths door, but when I first saw you and you grabbed my hand so tightly… We knew you were a fighter. And we wanted to fight with you.” And they did. Every step of the way.

Every surgery.

Every new hope.

Every failure.

It was theirs too.

Not just yours.

And when you were a kid you resented them for it. They didn’t understand that you didn’t want to go outside. They didn’t understand that you didn’t want to get out of bed. You grumbled and groaned as your Mom rolled you out into the sun. The wheelchair after your surgery, she painted it a bunch of different colors and sat you in it in the back yard. The sun poking through the trees and warming your skin while she gardened, and you acted like it didn’t help.

They were always so unwaveringly optimistic. This next surgery would be the one that cures everything. This next surgery will be the one that sticks.

It wasn’t easy explaining them the situation. With Steve, Zemo. All of it and at the time, the less they knew the better. But it didn’t stop them from worrying. So it made sense that when it was all over, you spent a little time at home. A nice little break from the stress of the constant running. The looking over your shoulder.

You’d waited until your bruised face healed, until you were cleared by Bruce. Then you went home.

Your Mother cried when she saw you, Dad hadn’t gotten home from work yet. She gripped your cheeks and lay kisses on your face, pulling you into a tight hug before leading you inside.

The three of you ordered pizza from your favorite place. Cheese fries and soda. You talked to them about your biological parents. Who they were. What just happened to you. But trying to explain time travel seemed a little difficult.

“So… there’s more than one… universe?” Your Dad, trying to put the pieces together.

“Yes, but they’re all interconnected. Like… every decision is a fork in the road, so choosing ‘yes’ leads you down one path while choosing ‘no’ leads you down another and it infinitely splits off from there.” He nods before shaking his head.

“How long do you think you’ll be able to stay with us?” Your Mom asks.

“A week or two at least.” You pick at a fry, “Bucky is going to come get me whenever I’m ready to go.”

Bucky. They remember Bucky.

“The real brooding guy?” Your Dad asks. “He looks like he needs a drink.” You laugh,

“Yeah, that guy.”

You helped your Mom with her garden. You went to work with your Dad for an afternoon, taking money at the register of his barbershop. Grocery shopping was nice. Doing something so normal and mundane after a while. Getting apple cider donuts from the Amish market and browsing, picking out a good watermelon and barbecuing. Something you felt like you’d taken for granted for so long before.

“Hey, how are you?” You stepped inside, away from the noise of your cousin’s birthday party. A small backyard barbecue with just family, an iced sheet cake on the kitchen counter with candles waiting to be lit.

“I’m doing alright,” His voice, you hadn’t realized how much you missed it. “Sam is riding my ass about this paperwork, but it’s just about done. How are your parents?”

“They’re good.” You sigh, leaning against the wall. “They’re happy to have me back.”

“I’m sure.” There was silence for a beat,

“I miss you.” Both said at the same time. You laugh, “We spent so much time together in those last couple weeks… I thought this break would be nice, and it is, I love seeing my family and being here, but…”

“I wish you were here.” Who knew he’d be such a softie? You hum,

“You could always come down when you’re done with that paperwork.” You look out the sliding door to the back yard. “I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.” He lets out a chuckle.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it.” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Have you ever seen the liberty bell?” You can hear him shift on the other line, getting comfortable.

“Can’t say that I have.” You could hear the smile on his face.

“You should come see that at least,” You hear him hum, “Maybe get a cheesesteak, see a couple of museums.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad actually, I just might have to.” You pick at the polish on your nails.

“Wanda tells me that you’re having trouble sleeping.” A heavy sigh. “What’s going on?” Silence.

“I’ll be fine.” But you knew he wasn’t. Being back in the chair, going through that again, even if it was for a short period of time. I was setting him back.

“Have you talked to Tom about it?” His therapist. Another sigh, so no. “Bucky…”

“I know. I know… I’ll talk to him about it this week.” Your Mom steps through the sliding glass door with your Aunt.

“We’re about to do cake.” She says. Telling you to get off the phone without telling you to get off the phone. You nod.

“I’ve got to go, but please don’t forget to take care of yourself. Take a shower, talk to your therapist, and then come see me. Promise?” You can hear Bucky move on the other line.

“I promise.” A grin on your face.

He showed up the weekend after. Hair a little shaggy and beard unshaven he stepped out of his car and into your arms. The hug much needed, giving you a little rush of happiness. A comfort in it.

He looks so tired. Talking to your parents over dinner. Just exhausted. And you know he hasn’t been sleeping. If the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, he hadn’t slept much since you left a week ago.

“They like you.” You tell him later, sitting on the edge of the bed in the guest room. “You don’t have to sleep in here,” You offer, “They won’t care if you slept in the same bed as me.” It’s not 1940 went unspoken but was there. He sighs, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve been a little restless,” He admits, “I don’t want to wake you up.” You roll your eyes, standing and holding your hand out to him.

“Come on.”

Your bed was a full size. Not as big as the beds at the compound but just about the size you’d had when you were sleeping in the Hydra facility in Austria. Which means you’re snuggled up face to face, looking at each other in the dark.

“I think it would be good for us.” You reason, “I think we need some closure.” He stares at you for a moment,

“That’s what Tom said too.” You shrug, your hands clasped together. “I just don’t even know what I would say…”

“I don’t know either.” You whisper into his hands. “Steve was leading me this whole way and the focus had always been on him, but… I was Peggy’s kid too.” And she had to give you away too. She had to lose a child too. “I think this would be really good for me.” He nods against the pillow.

“Okay.”

“We can go?” He sighs, fingers brushing your cheek.

“Yeah, we can go.”

Steve was buried next to Peggy. With her until death and far after. He was a traditionalist after all. The flowers felt silly in your hands as you lay them on the two graves, lush with flowers of admirers… tourists. You throat so dry and your nerves getting the better of you.

This wasn’t the Peggy that was your Mother. This was a different Peggy from a different universe. But it didn’t erase what was in your DNA. Your biology. You feel a tie to her. In more ways than one.

You’d done more research on her. Who she was. What she stood for. You talked to Sharon. Your cousin. She talked to you about how Peggy was really into female empowerment. She supported her when she wanted to join the CIA. She supported her through everything. And you wonder for a moment what it would have been like to grow up with Steve and Peggy as your parents. That legacy. If you’d lived long enough, would you have joined SHIELD? Would you have fought the same way they did? Against the injustice they saw in the world?

Yes, you think. You would have. Because even with a different hand dealt in life you still found your way back here. To this very moment.

“Hi, Mom.” It felt strange, talking to nothing, but it wasn’t really nothing was it? “I uh… I’ve been thinking about what I would want to say to you… how I would even… talk to you like I did with Dad and I know it probably wasn’t easy to let me go.” You swallowed roughly, tears already pooling in the corners of your eyes, “I know it wasn’t easy, but I just want to say thank you. I… I’m going to live a long and happy life here, where I might not have survived before. I found something that makes me truly happy, like I didn’t even know… that I was capable of any of that…

but I know it’s from you. Not just from Dad.” Your hands are shaking, and you wrap your arms around yourself. “I think that we kind of got lost in that a little bit. He’s Captain America, the golden boy… American hero that he is, no one even cared that I was your daughter… I just want to thank you for everything you’d done for me… and the person you let me become.”

It felt strange, talking to the grey stone. But relieving. Tension in your shoulders dissipating. There was also a slight emptiness, never being able to meet her. Never being able to talk to her. “I wish I could have at least talked to you,” A sigh, “At least once.”

But they’re always with you, right?

“Are you okay?” Bucky rubs your arms and you lean back into his chest, he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I think it’s your turn.” Your hand rubbing his forearm that lay across your chest. He stiffens slightly, you were sure he was anxious, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you some privacy.” You stepped away from him, holding his hand until you were too far out of reach, taking steps away from him to reach the car, leaning against the passenger door.

Bucky looked back at you, you giving him a little thumbs up and a soft smile. He sighs, turning back to look at the stones in front of him. Steve’s name carved out in the granite. He remembers being here before. Carrying the casket. Sore and upset. He remembers you sitting, not too far away. In a wheelchair, recovering from your surgery still, but there to pay your respects to the man who saved your life.

He remembers that day as being very difficult. His fists clenched and angry. Sam had been trying to calm him down all morning, but it had been hard. He couldn’t deal with the loss. He just couldn’t.

It feels like a lifetime ago now.

He swallows, “Steve…” He felt a little ridiculous. “I’m angry that you left me.” He lets out a deep breath. “I was angry… that you left me. I was angry that you left me and didn’t tell me the real reason why…” His fists were tight now. “I would have understood, if you had only told me… I wouldn’t have thought that you didn’t love me enough, I wouldn’t have thought that you didn’t care.

Steve, I… I loved you so much for so long that I didn’t see anything else ever happening. I always thought we would be together, as friends or not. It was hard for me to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t see it that way. It broke my heart to bury you. I didn’t think I had anything else and if it wasn’t for Sam I…” Maybe wouldn’t be here. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts.

“She’s incredible, Steve.” He could feel your eyes on his back, knowing you looked at him with worry. “She’s so intelligent and kind, she’s strong… I would have left you for her too.” A rough joke with a watery laugh, “It’s easier to say now, looking back that you made the right decision. But at the time it was almost impossible to reason… I just… I wanted to let you know that I love her.” He felt the tension melt from his shoulders, “And I’ll take care of her pal… Thank you for bringing her to me.” The granite felt warm from the sun as he rest his hand on the headstone. “Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.”

He met you at the car, standing close, resting his hands on the roof of the car, caging you in. Your eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his mouth to yours. A soft and slow kiss. You sigh, wrapping your arms around his waist, the hug much needed. The emotional turmoil finally settling. A comfortable silence.

When you pull back, he looks down on you, a soft smile, red eyes.

“Are you ready?” You hum,

“To leave or to move on?” He shrugs,

“Both?” You return his smile.

“Let’s go.”

You couldn’t help but feel like, when you sunk into the passenger seat and let Bucky drive you away, that you were leaving that part behind you.

You hadn’t had another memory of Steve since actually sitting and talking to him, there was a little emptiness there that hadn’t been before, soothed over with the fact that you felt changed by this. Your hand was in Bucky’s, over the center console, his thumb running over your wrist. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it as you pulled out of the lot and onto the street.

“I think we need a vacation.” He sighs, his eyes a little red rimmed still from the emotional toll of the day. You nod,

“Where should we go?” A side smile,

“Wherever you wanna go baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes x you #tfatws #sebastian stan

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kpop-zone · 4 years

Text

Bully Twice reaction to liking their victim

A/N: I’m sorry if this is kinda disappointing. First of all, my writing sucks in general. Secondly, I just couldn’t imagine some of the members being really mean, so this is more of a soft bully liking their victim reaction :D

Nayeon

Sometimes Nayeon asked herself whether she was a bad person. Some people thought she was, but she wasn’t convinced. She was simply better than other people. Consequently, they needed to be punished when they acted out of line. That was the only way to secure the order. Admittedly, sometimes innocent people had to suffer too, but that was the rare exception.

One of those exceptions was you. Nayeon was fairly perplexed when she realized that she liked you. She had always imagined falling for someone equal. Gorgeous, rich and high-class. But those weren’t the words, Nayeon would use to describe you. You were a wallflower. The only reason why she had noticed you, was because you had dropped all your books when she bumped into you while brushing past you. Agitatedly she had looked at you to show you your place in the hierarchy, but the moment, she looked into your eyes, she knew that you were special. Maybe not for the rest of the world, but for her.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t ruin her reputation. She couldn’t be seen with someone like you. Therefore, she couldn’t stop treating you like an inferior. Plus, she actually quite enjoyed the fearful look in your eyes when you were around her. It was always fun to torture other people, but something about torturing you, gave her the extra kick.

So you became her drug. She was lurking for you everywhere. In school, on your way home and even when you went out with your friends to go to the cinema. Every single time, she cornered you, dug her nails into your skin and made you beg for her to spare you. If she couldn’t be close to you in the way she wanted to, she had to find different ways. Perhaps, you weren’t able to see it, but it was her way of showing you that she liked you.

Jeongyeon

Feelings were weaknesses. In this world, it was to eat or to be eaten. And Jeongyeon decided for the former. Therefore, she built walls around her that no one could break, making her cold and untouchable. Everyone in school was scared of her. Even her friends. Because no one was safe. If someone did something against her will, they would be punished, no matter who they were. Especially if someone threatened to reveal how insecure she really was.

And no one was better at it than you. Although you didn’t even know it. When Jeongyeon first saw you, everything around her faded into the background and she could only see you. She was mesmerized. In the beginning, Jeongyeon didn’t see a problem with her admiration. Until it started to show. You had accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. Seeing who you had run into, you tried to protect your face from the punch that you were expecting and Jeongyeon’s heart felt heavy.

She didn’t want you to fear her. She had been so disappointed by your reaction that she stopped dead in her tracks, and you had the chance to run away. Everyone in the hallway had stared at her in disbelief. Did the Jeongyeon just let a victim go? And suddenly she had realized what you had been doing all this time. You had been breaking down her walls. But she couldn’t let that happen. What would the others do if they found out that she wasn’t all that tough like the pretended to be?

So the next time she saw you, she had to punish you. Prove to everyone that you weren’t her weakness. Unsuspectingly, you were in the cafeteria, walking to your seat with your tray in your hands, when Jeongyeon wordlessly walked up to you. She knocked the tray out your hands and shoved you so hard that you fell to the floor. You winced in pain and Jeongyeon shortly closed her eyes because of the noise. Quickly she stormed past you and out of the cafeteria, before anyone could see the tears welling in her eyes. She needed to stay untouchable to protect herself. She wouldn’t let you be an exception, even if you were.

Momo

Momo loved walking through the halls, making people quiver. Equally in fear and in awe. She knew that everyone wanted to either be her or be with her. But she was untouchable. No one could do it like her and even when she liked to play with the feelings of others, at the end of the day, no one could have her either. They were just her toys that she liked to torture.

Momo knew that it was wrong to put other people down to feel better, but she didn’t care. It was just too much fun. Therefore, she kept making people look like fools. And the possibilities to do so were endless when everyone followed your word like dogs. But her favorite methods had to be to literally let people kiss her feet or to drive a wedge between couples by seducing them to cheat. Being evil was just a great time killer.

One day, she had been feeling bored again, so she had forced a random group of friends that had been standing in the hallway to give her all their food, only to throw it on the floor the next moment and let them clean it up again. As she had been watching the scene in front of her, you had caught her eye. For the first time in her life, she had fallen for someone. In the beginning, she didn’t understand what her feelings meant.

Only when she kept torturing you the following weeks, she realized that it was no fun to watch you suffer. So she decided to claim you. You belonged to her now. Wordlessly she interlaced your fingers when you were walking down the hall one day, only for you to yank away your hand. But it didn’t matter what you thought. Sooner or later you would realize that she only wanted the best for you. Therefore, Momo aggressively clutched your arm, digging her nails into your skin.

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

She whispered threateningly into your ear before kissing your cheek sweetly.

Everyone was looking in shock at the two of you, but Momo didn’t care. You were hers now and it was better when everyone knew.

Sana

Sana had liked you since she could think. But apparently the universe liked torturing her. The two of you never seemed to walk the same path. While you became a talented, smart and lovely person, she became part of the worst kind of people. The ones that felt superior to others and thought that they had the right to do anything they wanted to. She wasn’t a bad person, but her charms and looks made her the picture-perfect evil sweetheart. And so she became what everyone thought she was.

But no one was resistant against her charms. Neither were you. You had noticed her staring at you from across the room, making you nervously avoid her gaze. Sana thought that your shyness was cute. You made her feel like a hunter, watching her prey. But soon the glances weren’t enough. She needed to feel you underneath her touch. So eventually, she ambushed you. You had been searching for a book in the library when she pinned you to the shelf, attaching her lips to yours and sucking all air out of you. You didn’t even know what had hit you before Sana already disappeared, not wanting anyone to catch the two of you.

That’s how her game with you began. She made you feel like no one else ever did before. Both in the best and worst way possible. When no one was watching, she attacked you with kisses, making both of your heads spin. But as soon as she was with her friends again, she made your life a living hell. Her specialty was to seduce you in front of the eyes of everyone, only to pull back in the last second, making you look like the biggest, most oblivious fool in the whole school.

“Did you really think, I would kiss you? That makes you not only ugly, but stupid too.”

She would laugh maliciously, making everyone around you join in. And every time you ran away with tears streaming down your cheeks, making Sana’s heart ache. But for everyone else, she put her cold mask on, letting the crowd fete her while she smirked smugly.

Jihyo

Jihyo knew that she was a queen and so did everybody else. She was by far the most popular girl in school and everyone wanted to be close to her. And being the popular girl had its perks. Jihyo could basically do whatever she wanted without suffering the consequences. Her clique and her skipped the line in the cafeteria, forced the nerds to do their homework for them and reserved a whole restroom to be able to smoke inside the school building. Everyone just accepted their superiority. Everyone except for you. Unwaveringly you refused to stand down to Jihyo.

Today all of her friends and her were gathered in their “private” restroom when you barged in.

“Get lost, loser!”

One of her friends, yelled at you, but you didn’t care. Slow-paced you walked to the sink, washing your hands. Jihyo smirked to herself. She liked the challenge. It was fun to be the popular girl for a while, but she had gotten bored lately. Everyone just knelt to her, there was no excitement anymore to all of this.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t let it show that she was impressed by you. Roughly she shoved you, making you bump into the sink. You slightly winced in pain before looking at her angrily. But Jihyo couldn’t be bothered, she stepped closer to you, leaving your faces only inches apart.

“Watch it, before you get hurt.”

She gritted through her teeth, but you didn’t even think about standing down to her. You were about to talk back when the bell rang, indicating that classes would start soon.

“Lucky you.”

Jihyo chuckled, giving her friends the sign to leave with her. She definitely had to test your limits. Who knew? Maybe she had finally found someone equal to her.

Mina

She hadn’t always been like this, Mina thought. As a child, she was a nice little girl, polite to everyone. But now, she had become a mean girl. Maybe it was because of all the private schools her parents sent her to. She was only surrounded by rich, spoiled kids that looked down on anyone that didn’t wear Chanel or Gucci. And slowly Mina assimilated to her surroundings.

So when you started attending her school, Mina wrinkled her nose in disgust. You had earned your spot because of a scholarship and not because of the money of your parents. You were the only one running around in no name shoes and with a backpack that you probably owned since elementary school. Her friends and her denigrated you every day, not caring that you obviously overheard their conversations. You tried not letting it show, but Mina could read people too well to not notice how you were slowly crumbling underneath their torture.

But over time, Mina couldn’t ignore the inner voice anymore, telling her that her hatred for you was fake. She didn’t care that your school uniform was a little worn-out or that you didn’t own 50 pairs of shoes like everyone else. What she cared about was that you were a genuinely nice person. No matter how much everyone tormented you, you didn’t shy back from helping your tormentors. If it was by tutoring lessons or letting them copy your homework.

Mina was intrigued. As hard as she tried to stay away from you, she found herself circling around you more and more often. Of course, she didn’t let it show, but being close to you, made her feel better. Just your pure proximity made her feel like she could be one of the good ones, too. Eventually.

But she could never get too close to you. She was toxic. And she couldn’t destroy your purity. Therefore, she needed to push you away. You would survive her torture, but you wouldn’t survive her touch, because everything she touched, wilted.

Dahyun

Since she could think, Dahyun was the one known for her impeccable sense of humor. But somehow, she developed from the class clown to the bully. Everyone always expected more and more until she started to make jokes at the expense of other people. Because nothing made people laugh more than the suffering of others. Dayhun didn’t really like to hurt other people, but as long as she could make people laugh and secure her spot as the popular kid, she would do whatever was necessary.

But that began to change when you showed up in her life. You had transferred schools in the middle of the school year, so of course you had probably already expected to have a tough start. Dahyun really wanted to spare you from her torture. No one had ever managed to make her feel this way. But she was too afraid to lose her reputation, so she started to make jokes at your expense too.

“Are you always this stupid or is today a special occasion?”

No matter what you said, Dahyun always twisted your words, making you seem like an idiot. She nervously chuckled at her own jokes, pretending like she enjoyed every second of the attention on her, even though she felt like dying inside.

Her inner conflict reached its peak when she went to the restroom one day and heard you crying in one of the stalls. She stood there like glued to the spot, listening to your sobs and feeling her heart break with every second. She wanted to wrap her arms around you and hold you to make it better, but it was too late. How could she ever make up for what she did?

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung didn’t particularly enjoy torturing people, she just wanted to show the world that she didn’t care about society’s standards and that she could do whatever she wanted to. Therefore, she and her friends did all kind of mischievous things. Spraying walls, slitting tires or stealing the stuff of other people to scatter them in the whole school. They didn’t have anything against the particular persons, it was just fun to see the faces of the authorities.

But then you came along.

You had caught her eye, the first time that she had seen you. But you were just such an unlucky person. You always ended up being one of the victims of her friends’ and her malefactions. Your stuff always fell into their hands and Chaeyoung started to become angry. She didn’t like bullying you. Why couldn’t you manage to stay away from her friends and her?

One day, they were searching for trouble again and they found your unlocked bike. It was literally an invitation. Together they heaved it into a tree and when you exited school, everyone laughed at you, making you blush profoundly. That’s when Chaeyoung snapped. She waited until her friends left before storming up to you.

“Why can’t you be more careful?? Just stop getting into my way!!”

She yelled into your face and you flinched in surprise. Chaeyoung could see your confusion. Of course, you couldn’t understand why your tormentor was yelling at you to stop being tormented. Suddenly realizing how close she was standing in front of you, Chaeyoung realized that this was actually the first time that she talked to you and a blush started to spread on her cheeks. Not wanting you to see it, however, she quickly turned around, sprinting away like she was chased by a wild animal.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu had just somehow ended up in the wrong group of friends. Because she had such a cold demeanor and could admittedly deliver pretty snarky comments, mean people were attracted to her. They always thought that she was one of them. Even if it wasn’t true. But having mean friends, was better than having no friends, Tzuyu thought, so she became part of the popular, but mean clique in school. Mostly, they settled for psychological terror, but sometimes they also executed mean pranks like stealing the clothes from the freshmen out of the locker room, so at least one of them had to run around school naked.

But you weren’t like her friends at all. You were rather quiet and didn’t care about what people said about you. Tzuyu secretly admired you. It was fascinating that you chose to have no friends instead of being someone that you were not. But of course, it also meant that you were the perfect victim for her clique. They liked to throw ugly comments at you or shove you in the hallway. But whenever it was Tzuyu’s turn to torture you, she made sure that you didn’t know it was her. That way, her friends were still satisfied with her performance, but perhaps you didn’t hate her that much.

That was until her friends forced Tzuyu to empty her drink into your backpack while you had to leave the classroom shortly. She was just showing her friends triumphally that her cup was empty when you entered the room again, looking at her in shock. Your eyes bored right through her and Tzuyu quickly stopped smirking. Of course, she didn’t let it show how hurt she was, but the rest of the day, she was even quieter than usual. When she came home, she laid on her bed, wordlessly staring at the ceiling, not being able to shake the thought of your hurt expression off her mind. She tried to block out the thought of you hating her now, but somehow, she didn’t succeed, and her heart started to ache subtly.

#twice reaction #twice #nayeon #jeongyeon #momo #sana #jihyo #mina #dahyun #chaeyouung #tzuyu #girl group reactions #girl group #kpop reactions #kpop

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makeste · 5 years

Text

what we could have been

this is a post about the similarities between these old farts

and these lil bubbas

but more importantly, it’s a post about the differences.

so! the manga has recently entered the Internships 2 arc, also known as the Child Soldiers/Todoroki Drama 2.5 arc! so far it is very exciting, and I can’t wait to see how Deku and co. will somehow level up by a factor of 11 just in time to defeat Tomura and his new new upgrade. I assume that this will happen though, since the alternative is... [checks] everyone dies a horrible death. well shit.

anyway, we’ve already had like 12 arcs of All Might being a mentor, but this arc features the first time Endeavor has tried his hand at it! this is of course a universally beloved decision by Horikoshi which everyone in the fandom is very happy about! but I actually do like it, because the Endeavor redemption arc is complicated as fuck and endlessly fascinating to me, and because, truth be told, there is something that even a Certified Son Of A Bitch can still teach these young whippersnappers. even if Endeavor is 99.9% a dick, that 0.01% can still impart something of value. but anyways that’s not what I came here to talk about so let’s move on.

what I want to discuss is the fact that Izuku and Katsuki share very obvious similarities with All Might and Endeavor, and there are very obvious parallels between their respective arcs. Izuku is basically All Might 2.0, whereas Endeavor is presented as a version of what Katsuki could have been. but they are not the same people, either of them, and their paths have started to diverge in ways that are very much for the better. and the reasons for that can all be traced to one simple action, which in turn stemmed from one simple, honest impulse. and I have approximately 10,000 thoughts about it, so here goes.

first let’s briefly touch on those similarities. as far as Izuku and All Might go, their backstories very closely resemble one another. they both started out as quirkless kids who nonetheless held a stubborn idealism and were driven to help others. they’re both incredibly determined and remarkably self-sacrificing. both of them spent the first part of their lives overlooked, undervalued, and underestimated, and they both understand the combination of validation and gut-churning pressure that comes with being chosen as the successor to a great power and a heavy burden. the similarities between them are a large part of why All Might chose Izuku as his successor, despite there being other options on the table. All Might sees himself in Izuku, and that’s part of the reason why they share such a strong bond.

now let’s talk about Endeavor and Katsuki, who share absolutely no bond at all (for now, anyway), but nonetheless hold just as much common ground as their counterparts. they are both fiercely determined and have made it their goal to reach the top. they’re also both foul-tempered with notoriously unfriendly attitudes. and last but not least, they’re both loners who have a tendency to push others away.

one thing that’s interesting is that both Katsuki and Endeavor formerly held strong beliefs about quirks being inextricably tied to strength. Katsuki shunned and scorned Izuku for years because he lacked a quirk. meanwhile Endeavor wrote off 3/4 of his own children because their quirks didn’t develop the way he wanted them to. and it’s only recently that each of them has come to see the error of their ways, which in Endeavor’s case is quite unfortunate, because he’s already well into his forties and has only just now started to con on to the fact that he’s an asshole. whereas Katsuki started this process a whole lot earlier, and as a result is a lot better poised to bounce back from his mistakes and make redemption his bitch.

so segueing now into the “differences” part of this comparative essay, that is Key Difference # 1 for you: Katsuki managed to not waste the next 30 years of his life focusing only on Achieving Strength at the cost of destroying every other positive thing in his life. and while I think there is one reason in particular for this, which I’ll get to shortly, I’ll also go ahead and give Katsuki some of the credit here, because what he did is hard. it’s hard to realize that you have had the wrong way of thinking for your entire life, and to take the steps to get it straightened out. many people are not that open to change. rather than admitting their mistakes, they double down on them and stubbornly defend them. but Katsuki was willing to question everything he’d ever known, and look at it with an open mind, and realize that he was heading down a wrong path. and then he was able to course-correct.

and that takes strength. not the kind of strength he’s so preoccupied with, but an inner strength that he might not have even realized that he has. in this respect he is much stronger than Endeavor, who’s had much more difficulty doing his own course-correcting, although he too is finally starting to figure his shit out (too late to salvage some things, but “better late than never” is a term that still applies here regardless). in my opinion, Katsuki’s willingness to accept his own faults, and to try to change them, is one of the most unexpected and remarkable things about his character, because you wouldn’t necessarily see that coming based on his attitude at the start of the series. anyways, I really like it.

but I did say some of the credit, as opposed to all of it. and the reason for that is because in my opinion, it’s actually Izuku who deserves most of it. but before I explain, let me first backtrack and talk about another aspect of All Might’s character, one he does not share with Izuku.

All Might, like Katsuki and Endeavor, is actually a loner as well. we tend to not notice as much, because he doesn’t really seem to fit the stereotypical profile of a loner-type character; he has a very close bond with Izuku, and he speaks with an earnest and straightforward candor about emotions and subjects that most people wouldn’t be able to discuss with the same sincerity. but it’s true nonetheless. even putting aside this moment in chapter 166 where he outright admits it, there are numerous other little details in the series that show this. he has no family that we know of. only one close friend (and a non-hero at that). at the start of the manga, he was estranged from both his mentor (referring here to Gran, not Nana) and his sidekick. he’s close-lipped about a lot of things, including things he honestly should have been upfront with Izuku about much sooner. and he hides his true self from the world in an effort to preserve that unwaveringly steady image that people have put their trust in.

in the very first chapter of BnHA, All Might makes a speech to Izuku about the reason why he smiles: “to stave off the overwhelming pressure and fear I feel.” All Might was the Symbol of Peace, the pillar that society relied on -- but he was a lone pillar. he kept to himself, and made the choice to bear that weight alone. and this had consequences. I’m speaking not only of the chaos after his fall, but of other, subtler impacts as well.

so now, let’s talk about Izuku.

let’s start with Key Difference # 2: Izuku is not a loner. yes, at one point he was alone -- not by choice -- but that isn’t a defining trait of his character. Izuku reaches out. he reaches out to everyone. he makes friends easily. he’s open with his feelings in a way that All Might is not (and which All Might in fact often scolds him for).

boy just puts it out there. he’s not ashamed. but anyways, it’s actually the part about him reaching out to others that I want to talk about. I’ve said in past essays that Izuku has an instinct to save others which surpasses even All Might’s. when he sees someone in pain, his instinct is to reach out. he will do this every time. regardless of whether it’s asked for, and regardless of how often his attempts may be shunned.

and this, right here, is the most important difference between Izuku (and Katsuki), and All Might (and Endeavor). because you see, All Might, for all his strength and sacrifice, always stood alone.

he kept his burden to himself, and never looked back.

but Izuku did.

“I got my quirk from someone else.”

this was in spite of All Might, his hero, telling him in no uncertain terms to not share his secret with anyone else. and in spite of the fact that Katsuki hadn’t been anything close to a friend to him for many years. like, it’s actually wild to think about all of the reasons that Izuku had not to do this. but the fact of the matter is this: that where All Might never turned, never wavered, and never attempted to help anyone else cross that gap, when Izuku saw Katsuki in pain, he acted on the same instinct that has guided him his entire life: he reached.

and that...

...has made all the difference.

Izuku pulled Katsuki across the gap with him. he let him in. he did this with no expectation of reward, or even gratitude. quite the opposite; Katsuki had always rebuffed his attempts to help before, and even in this case, it initially appeared that he had misjudged again, and that he was just lucky that Katsuki didn’t press the matter. it was a move that defied not just common sense, but all of Izuku’s past experience; nothing about their past relationship ever hinted at a hope for common ground in the future. nothing, that is, except a shared dream.

but he reached out anyway. and because of that, Katsuki was eventually able to put two and two together. and when he did, he did something very unexpected: he reached back.

he asked Izuku for help. he did something that Endeavor never managed to do until after All Might had retired and he found himself, at long last, in the number one position, but adrift and without a driver’s manual.

it took a lifetime of failure and the loss of everything he’d been working toward for Endeavor to finally realize he was doing something wrong, and to ask for help. but this isn’t the case with Katsuki. partly because he was able to put his ego aside in this one crucial moment, but even more than that, it was simply because Izuku had never left a gap between them. Katsuki never had to work to build a bridge. Izuku was laying planks behind him every single step of the way. never expecting that Katsuki would actually follow them, but leaving them there for him regardless. leaving this path back open for them to reconcile, should Katsuki ever choose to finally meet him halfway.

and because of that faith, because of his open and giving nature, the end result is that he now has something that All Might never had: a partner. someone to help shoulder that weight. someone else who understands that burden. and someone who is now working together with Izuku with unexpected earnestness.

and so this is Key Difference # 3: whereas All Might and Endeavor were only ever at odds, two opposites on a polarized scale, Izuku and Katsuki are learning to work together. to learn from one another. to share what the other lacks, and to make each other stronger.

incidentally, just in case any part of this essay has come off as me being overly critical of All Might, or pinning the blame on him for the failures of the previous generation, let me assure you that I don’t fault him at all. All Might did what he thought was right, and managed to turn an impossible dream into a shining reality against all odds. the Symbol he became brought about peace for many years and inspired the next generation of heroes. he was not wrong in what he was trying to do; his only flaw was in being so determined to shield others that he ended up taking on too much by himself.

and I’ll say this for All Might too: in the end, he himself realized where he had gone wrong. there’s a reason why, particularly since his retirement, he’s started mentoring Katsuki in addition to Izuku. All Might knows better than anyone else the burden that sits on Izuku’s shoulders, and he knows just how hard it is to go that course alone. I already gave credit to the boys, but let’s go ahead and give All Might some credit as well, because he, too, is now course-correcting. he’s learning from his mistakes, and helping build a new generation that can succeed in building an even brighter future than the one he once sought.

as a certain melty-face scenery-chewing villain once said, “when people know that there will be an end, they entrust.” this series began with the passing of a legacy from one generation to the next. and now in this latest arc, we’re again seeing that theme of entrusting, of the old guard passing down the torch to the young guns. and shockingly, not just with All Might, but Endeavor as well. reluctant though he was at first, he, too, is now doing his best to help guide these kids down the right path. placing his faith in their strength.

I started off this essay by saying that All Might and Endeavor are who Izuku and Katsuki could have been. but now, to conclude things, I think it’s only fitting that I turn that on its head. All Might and Endeavor are not who Katsuki and Izuku could have been. Izuku and Katsuki are who All Might and Endeavor could have been. they are the ideal vision that never came to pass. the brand reimagined. the song remastered. Izuku and Katsuki will be able to reach heights that All Might and Endeavor never achieved, because they were able to shed loneliness and pride in favor of trust and a sincere willingness to learn.

so yeah.

all hail the new kids.

#boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #endeavor #all might #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #bakugou meta #endeavor meta

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cheeri0-queeri0 · 4 years

Text

My First Two Loves (WLW version): Chapter 3

Is she gaping? Emma has to be gaping.

“Ava… y-you and… Mason? Are…”

Ava grins rakishly, rubbing a hand along Mason’s back. “Madly in love? Or, well, lust - we haven’t gotten to that other L-word yet.”

Nails. Nails are being driven into her heart.

For his part, Mason looks taken aback by her reaction. “I meant to tell you last night, Emma.”

“You could’ve texted!” A lump is rising in her throat.

Mason scratches the back of his head. “I wanted to tell you in person. I tried to call, but when the line kept dropping, I thought…this is better?”

No. No it is not. It is one million times worse.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Emma forces the words to come out chipper, forces a placid smile. “I… I’m speechless. Congrats, you two.”

Congrats on secretly shattering her heart. But hey, what’s another secret to the now-sure-to-grow pile?

Mason’s shoulders relax, the tension falling from his face as he turns to Ava. “I almost forgot, babe! I got a little something for you.” He reaches over on the hood of Ava’s car where he put a cute little thermos.

Ava tentatively takes it from him, eyes wide in surprise. “Caramel macchiato?”

Mason gives her a shy, crooked smile. “With two shakes of cinnamon.”

Ava’s favorite.

The girl slings her other arm around his neck and rests her head against his cheek. “You remembered! Best boyfriend ever!”

Emma...is going to combust from agony.

“You guys are just so...perfect together,” she grits out, hoping it sounds passably pleasant.

Ava’s eyes find hers, softening just a bit.

Mason lets out a breathy laugh that seems more like a sigh of relief. “See, Ava, I told you she’d be happy for us!”

Ava blinks, breaking her gaze away. “I knew she would be. She is my bestie, after all.” There’s something off about her tone. If she hadn’t told Emma in the car that they were still solid despite Lauren dying to usurp her place, Emma would worry that maybe they weren’t best friends anymore.

Hell, maybe she’s still a little worried. And now for more than the Lauren reason.

“I should leave you alone for some...couple time. Catch you later!” Cue an ungraceful escape.

Mason jogs to catch up. “There’s so many times I tried to call. To tell you.” His voice turns plaintive. “Emma, I just want to double check. Are you okay with this?”

No! I am unequivocally not okay with this! God, how badly Emma wants to shout that at the top of her lungs. If she said it, Mason is exactly the kind of guy who would follow through and break up. He’s good. And that’s the problem.

“Mason. I’m happy for you. And for Ava.”

“...Yeah? Because your happiness means a lot to me.”

And now she has to sell it. “Yeah. I’m stoked. You’re so cute together. I should’ve played matchmaker years ago.” That...might have been overkill. “I just have some things to take care of right now. Talk later, okay?”

Mason nods. It worked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Emma power-walks away, tears pricking at her eyes as she let her feet take her anywhere else.

After a short time, she rounds a corner, realizing too late that she’s behind the gym near the back parking lot she usually avoided.

And she wasn’t alone.

“Hey there, princess. What brings you to my place of business?” The boy is smarmy, leaning against the brick wall, hair gelled so thickly it wouldn’t move even in a tornado.

Emma stills, confused. “Your...uh, what?”

He frowns, pushing off the wall and wandering closer. “My store. My shop. My livelihood. What you buying?”

Oh. Shit. “I’m not - I’m just trying to get away from some people - ”

The boy comes to a stop too close. “Save it. A sob story won’t get a discount.” He looked her up and down, calculating. Though he definitely didn’t look like someone who was good at math. “Adderall. Has to be. A study buddy. Everyone needs one, right?”

He yanks a plastic bag out of his pocket.

“Oh, no thanks. I appreciate it, but I am not interested.”

His jaw works, clenching and unclenching. “The offer isn’t optional anymore. You saw what I’m selling. You’re part of this.” He takes one more step, his Axe body spray stinging the inside of Emma’s nose. “Now open up that bag and find me two hundred bucks.”

Several thoughts race through Emma’s head. The first, unhelpfully, is two HUNDRED dollars for one bottle of pills? Shortly followed by If I run, will he grab me?

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, the boy huffs. “I don’t like having to hurt people, really.” But he would, hung unspoken in the air.

“Leave her alone, Darren.” The voice is unfamiliar, low, with a rasp to it.

Emma whirls around to the girl stalking toward them. She’s...dangerous looking, leather jacket slung around her broad shoulders, green eyes boring unwaveringly into the aggressive pill-pusher.

The boy - Darren - backs up quickly. “N-Noelle? I didn’t know you were back in town. I’m just trying to run a business, okay?”

Noelle doesn’t speak, just wrenches the bag out of Darren’s hands and flings it onto the roof.

“You bitch!” Darren hesitates, glaring, then turns tail and runs.

The other girl watches him go, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. Up close, she’s taller than Emma, but only just.

It’s like the bubble of nervous energy inside her just bursts, and Emma blurts out, “W-wow, that was...kind of amazing -uh, amazingly stupid!”

Noelle hums, glancing at her. Emma doesn’t miss the way her eyes drift down to her stomach and back. “You gotta fight like with like.”

Emma laughs, a tittering little sound that she hates. She bites her lip, hard. “You’re lucky it didn’t come to a fight.”

The other girl shrugs, unbothered. “I like my chances better than yours.”

Okay...fair.

Noelle sighs, swiping a hand through her bangs to push them out of her chiseled face. “You should get out of here. I can’t spend all day playing guardian angel.”

“Oh.” The comment rubs her the wrong way, but Emma brushes it off. After all, she did call the girl’s heroics stupid. Maybe...maybe there’s a way to make it up to her? “Unless…you’re new, right? Maybe I can repay the favor and show you around?”

Noelle raises a brow. “How do you know I’m new?”

Not an outright rejection, Emma can work with that. She smiles. “I happen to know pretty much everyone here.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“So you’ve been invisible the past four years? I would definitely have remembered you.” The last part comes out without her even thinking it.

Green eyes drop to the ground, expression shuttering off. “I’ve...been away.”

“Like on a trip?”

“Not exactly.”

Emma pauses. She honestly can’t tell what the other girl is thinking. “You...don’t seem to like answering questions.”

Noelle’s lips twist into a humorless smile. “I’m told it’s one of my best character traits.”

Emma’s heart pangs. That’s messed up. “I’m not sure who told you that. It’s...sad. It keeps people away.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way.” Her voice is flat, either matter-of-fact or defeated. Who’s to tell?

“Not always,” Emma shoots back, challenging.

Noelle studies her curiously, weighing her words. She runs her tongue over her lips, then clicks it against her teeth, coming to a decision. “Fine. So, hypothetically, let’s say I take you up on this offer. What are you gonna do? Draw me a map or something?”

Emma snorts. She’s dismal at drawing. “I’d give you a tour. The campus has changed a lot the last few years, and I know all the best new spots. Besides, I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

She means it as a joke, but - she means it as something else, too.

Noelle’s back straightens, and there’s a renewed interest in her gaze. She gives her an easy grin. “I like the sound of that. Alright, I’m in.”

Something in Emma’s chest swoops. She can’t help but beam. “Welcome to Eastridge High tour extraordinaire.”

She takes the other girl around the school, pointing out landmarks important and trivial. Noelle opens up, not by much, but enough that Emma gets a glimpse of who she is underneath all the stoic backtalk. Intuitive, dry humor in spades, and…

And maybe...very, very attractive.

Emma’s only ever really had a crush on Ava, so she’s not totally sure what her type is, but damn. Apparently badasses check a lot of her boxes.

They wind up at the greenhouse, bequeathed by wealthy alum’s generous donation. It’s dubbed the Garden of Truth, the legend going that questions asked near the fountain in the center must be answered truthfully, with a magical limit of one a day.

Noelle chuckles, like legitimately chuckles. “You have to be making that up. Right?”

Emma tuts, kneeling to dip her fingers in the fountain’s water. “One question only, so choose wisely.”

Noelle looks up at all the hanging plants, the vines climbing towards the ceiling. “You first.”

Are you into girls?

“Have you ever been in love?” Close enough, right?

Noelle stiffens. “No,” she says, sharply, then reconsiders. “Maybe. I had feelings for someone I- someone I shouldn’t have.”

No pronouns. No closer to an answer for that, then. There’s silence for a moment, Emma tracing patterns on the water’s surface.

“You looked upset when you showed up at the parking lot today. Why?”

Emma jumps, drenching her sleeve. She stands. “I wasn’t - ”

Noelle sends her a look. “We’re in the Garden of Truth, remember? Be honest.”

Emma takes a deep breath. It might be nice to tell someone, someone with no stake in the fight. “I found out the girl I like is dating my best friend.” She wraps her arms around herself, holding Noelle’s gaze. “N-no one knows that I’m… Don’t tell anyone.” Her voice actually quivers.

Noelle reaches out and puts a hand on Emma’s arm. “I won’t. I’m good at keeping secrets.” She takes her hand back, and Emma immediately misses its warmth. “This girl… Does she know how you feel?”

Emma’s vision clouds with tears. “No.”

Noelle tilts her head, eyes crinkling in sympathy. “Figures. It’s hard to imagine someone turning you down.”

It isn’t hard for Emma - that seems to be all she has been able to imagine. The way Ava’s mouth would hang open, the way she would back away, turn her down. How it would get out, first to the cheer squad and then to the whole school. There’d be whispers, cruel jokes, pity. Everything would change.

They walk back out. Emma spots a few cheerleaders lounging around a picknick table in the courtyard. They wave her over.

Noelle slows, shoving her hands in her light-wash jeans pockets. “Looks like that’s the end of the tour. Bye for now, Cheer Squad.” She walks off before Emma can reply.

“...Bye?”

Her steps felt lighter as she joined the group. Like Noelle had lifted the weight since the Ava-Mason bombshell went off this morning. A distraction, if only for a few minutes.

Ava’s watching her with a somewhat shell-shocked expression. “Emma, I can’t believe you were talking to Noelle Harris!”

To her right, Lauren looks delighted. She twirls a lock of black hair in her manicured fingers, eyes sharp. “Don’t you know who she is?”

Emma searches the team’s faces for a hint, but she can’t find one. “What, is she famous or something?” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but she’s so confused it comes of as genuine.

Toni clears a spot for her, patting the bench. “You’d better sit down. You need to hear the truth about her!”

Taking trepidatious steps, Emma has the sinking feeling she’s gotten herself further into a mess.

#playchoices #choices mftl #mftl

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

Text

The Mandalorian Fic -- The whole future lies in thee

Set right after episode 8 -- Din makes a promise. Fluff, tenderness, parenthood, ~2000 words

On AO3

The baby was sleeping soundly, finally, safely tucked into the container that once again had to serve as a crib after all of the ugnaught’s skilled work had gone to waste. Despite the sound of the kid’s slow peaceful breathing Din turned in the pilot’s seat to glance over his shoulder, just to be sure. With nothing else around the ship suitable as padding, Din had gone back to using his cape for the purpose — the baby didn’t seem to mind, one small hand tangled in the folds of it and his face slack-mouthed and soft with sleep, mythosaur pendant still clutched in his other hand.

Din turned back to the viewport to watch the serene lights of hyperspace dancing by outside, blood caking uncomfortably in his hair under the helmet.

Whatever it was IG-11 had done with the bacta spray it seemed to have worked —Din’s head felt clear, apart from the exhaustion, and that horrible raw wrongness in his torso that meant something important in there had been shaken past breaking was completely gone — but he still ached all over, every movement setting off a fresh fireworks display of discomfort through his whole body. He felt vaguely like he’d just gone three more rounds with the mudhorn and lost every one.

Din kept his hands loosely curled around the control sticks even though there was no real need to anymore, with their destination set and the ship’s systems ticking away steadily. His plans hadn’t arrived at a real ‘towards’ yet, having largely stopped at ‘away, before something even worse shows up’, which he felt was becoming an unfortunate yet undeniable trend in his life lately. Get far enough away, get some supplies, hope for some decent work, rinse, repeat.

The events of the last few days blurred together, a thin sheen of oil puddling on top of deceptively calm waters without sinking in. From experience it would probably hit him worse once the battle numbness receded, but for now he simply sat there in the vast silence of his head, watching the lights run by. The only sounds were the baby’s snores and the familiar creaks and low moans of the Razor Crest.

Finally Din sighed and shifted a bit. He should go find something for the baby to eat in case he’d be hungry when he woke up. What with one thing and another it was starting to be a while since his last meal. Din got up and walked softly over to the hatch, dropping down as gently as he could to avoid waking the kid. He opened the storage space he reserved for foodstuffs and stared blankly at the containers within for a while, willing himself to just pick one.

That was when the crying started.

Din startled out of his haze of indecision and made his way back to the cockpit, where the baby was giving such a miserably plaintive cry that Din felt it like an ache in his own chest. When he spotted Din the baby cried even louder and reached his small arms towards him, straining up desperately enough that he almost fell out of his seat.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Din said, picking him up and holding him in a state of mild panic because he’d never heard the kid make a sound like this before. “What’s wrong?”

The baby just sobbed helplessly, his tiny face tucked against Din’s body and his three-fingered hands clutching at whatever part of the armor he could reach.

“You hurt somewhere?” Din asked, fear shooting up his spine and shaking him awake in earnest. The kid had seemed fine, but maybe something had happened that Din hadn’t noticed, or perhaps turning that wall of flame away had been too much of a strain on his little body, or —

Cradling the baby against his chest Din reached up with his free hand to activate the extremely rudimentary medical scanner built into the visor of his helmet, only partially reassured when it showed nothing out of the ordinary with the kid except a heightened pulse, which could easily be attributed to the huge gasping sobs. The scanner was only designed to give information on the ‘dead or alive?’ sort of level. If something was wrong with the baby’s brain, or, or wherever else his abilities came from, though, how would Din even…

Shit, he wished the nurse droid were still here, IG-11 would have known what to do. When it came to usefulness they would have been better off if it’d been Din blowing himself up at the end of that tunnel. The Armorer might be wiser than anyone else he’d ever met, but he didn’t know what the hell she’d been thinking, sending the kid off with Din as his only permanent bumbling support. For a moment and for the first time since he was a boy, Din gave serious consideration to just sitting down on the spot and bursting into tears himself.

Taking a deep breath he pulled himself together.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, holding the baby closer. “Everything’s okay, I’m here. It’s safe.”

The baby gave a hiccup between sobs and gazed up at him, the worst of the urgency slowly melting away. His round cheeks were flushed and his face still scrunched up slightly in distress, but his eyes cleared enough that Din could see something in his voice must have reached him.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it,” Din said, willing himself to believe it as he stroked his thumb over the baby’s forehead and along one fuzzy ear. The baby still looked at him, his hand fumbling to grab a hold of the fabric of Din’s gambeson like he was afraid Din would disappear if he didn’t.

Din maneuvered his way down to the lower section of the ship one-handed so they’d have more space, speaking to the baby the whole way — he had no real idea what he was saying anymore, only that the baby seemed to calm at the sound of his voice. Once he reached the cargo hold he started pacing slowly, though whether to help soothe the baby or himself he couldn’t say at this point.

The baby fussed quietly but miserably, still unable to settle all the way down. Din rocked him gently in the way he’d found through trial and error best did the trick, mindlessly walking back and forth across the floor as he looked down at the baby and tried to prod his exhausted mind back to work to figure out what was going on.

“This would be a lot easier if either of us knew how to talk,” Din told the baby mournfully, bouncing him as he reached the end of the cargo hold and turned around again.

A spark of instinct lit up the weary murkiness of Din’s brain. When Kuiil — and there was a blankness around the name in his head that from experience meant something large and ugly was waiting to take its toll when the worst of the fog lifted, but for now there was only silence — when Kuiil had taken the baby away with him, back towards the ship, Din had been too wrapped up in his own fear-hazy thoughts to think to reassure the kid, too busy trying to work out contingencies and strategies with too little information to go on to...

Something shifted in Din’s mind, his perspective drifting and realigning just so, as he realized that the last time he’d seen his parents he had always known it was the last time. There had been no time for doubt. One moment they’d been there, and then they were gone. There had been no space where he hadn’t known whether they were coming back, no waiting.

Big dark eyes watching him as he walked away and didn’t even glance back.

The thought went through him like a shot the beskar could do nothing to stop, leaving something in there to bleed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, cupping the baby’s head in his hand. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

The baby looked at him with his head on one side, ears lopsided in exhaustion, but there was something like understanding in his wide dark eyes, the crying finally dying away.

“Yeah, I know,” Din murmured, stroking the back of the small downy head. “I know all of that was scary. It’s okay to be scared. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.”

The baby rubbed his cheek against the breastplate, fumbling around until he found the mythosaur pendant around his neck and absentmindedly stuck it in his mouth as he gazed unwaveringly up at Din. Distantly, illogically, Din wanted to press a quick kiss to his forehead, but he doubted the kid would find the cold touch of beskar and transparisteel all that comforting. Instead he carefully wiped the last of the tear tracks away with his thumb, smiling despite himself when the baby scrunched up his nose and made a protesting sound around the pendant. “Sorry.”

Din unfastened his breastplate so the baby would have something softer to rest against, then half collapsed, half sat down on the spot, his back resting against the bulkhead. He held the kid against his chest, cradled in the crook of his arm. The baby made a pleased sound and tucked himself even closer with a wiggle. Din used two fingers of his right hand to pull off the glove on the left so he could feel the reassuring warmth of the little body under his hand, gently running his thumb back and forth over the baby’s back when he snuggled into it.

They sat like that for a while until Din sighed.

“I know… I know words don’t count for much and you’re probably still too small to understand, but I — think I need to say this out loud.” Din glanced down and carefully took the kid’s tiny hand between his own thumb and forefinger, stroking the back of it. “I’ve, uh. Sworn only one other oath in my life and it was a long time ago, so I might be a bit rusty.”

While he paused the baby wrapped his entire hand around Din’s index finger, his feet tipping idly back and forth in the way that usually signified contentment while he gazed up at Din.

Din took a deep breath, dizzy with something like reverence and possibly also the last lingering remnants of the concussion. “No matter how many times I go away, I am always going to come back. As long as I still live I am always, always going to come back for you. I promise.”

His voice broke slightly on the last part and he cleared his throat, blinked quickly a couple of times even though he knew no one could see his face. The baby raised his arms in the way he did when he wanted to be lifted, so Din held the kid up in front of him until they were face to face, or at least face to visor. The baby reached out and put his palm flat against the metal, giving a low happy coo.

“I know I’m not much of a prize,” Din said in a rough voice, their new sigil bright on his shoulder and in his mind. “But I promise I’m going to give it everything I have.”

The baby babbled like he was imparting a piece of great wisdom and wrapped his arms as far around the helmet as he could with a trilling sound, legs dangling cheerfully. Din used the opportunity while his view was obscured anyway to close his eyes for a second.

“I promise,” Din said again, willing his voice to carry the meaning if the words couldn’t, and held the child even closer against his chest.

#my writing #the mandalorian #star wars #fun fact: this was actually the first story I started writing/wanted to do for this show haha! better late than never I guess

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pftones3482 · 4 years

Text

Simple

For the anon who bought me the absurd amount of Ko-Fi’s. It’s not nearly the length I’d write for an actual commission, but it’s something lol.

Set mid-season 3, before they found Shiro. Under a cut for length.

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

In, out.

Pidge hacks their way into the base, Hunk takes out the weapons systems, Lance backs Keith up while he searches the data base for signs of Shiro, Coran and Allura stay on the castle ship as backup.

Simple.

Nothing was ever fucking simple.

“Down!” Keith shouted, dropping to his knees and dragging his bayard across the thighs of the enemy soldier coming at him. He stumbled, bent at the hip, and doubled onto the floor next to Keith, where he drove his sword into the soldier’s stomach.

Across the room, Pidge obliged, using Hunk as a shield while she furiously attempted to override the security system protocol that had been activated when she attempted to hack into the base in the first place. Hunk, intent on protecting her, mirrored Keith, dropping to one knee and keeping a steady grip on his bayard as he shot the soldiers and drones coming for them. Keith’s warning prevented them from getting shot through the head by an enemy sniper at Keith’s three o’clock.

Keith twisted on his knee once he was certain they were safe, the muscles in his legs protesting at the weird angle. He ignored the twinge, stabbed another soldier, eyes darting behind him for the remaining paladin.

Lance was his backup. The sniper. Behind him, his right hand, at his back every step of the way. He’d been holding his own this whole time, taking shot after shot and keeping the three of them safe.

So where the fuck was he?

“Lance!” Keith shouted.

No response, either in person or via the comms system. Keith spared one last glance at Hunk and Pidge. Pidge was still intent on her keyboard, and as Keith watched, cameras started sparking around the room. Hunk caught his eye and jutted his chin up to the upper landing. “Go!” he shouted. “We got the floor!”

Six months ago, Keith wouldn’t have thought much of that promise. Now, he trusted this group of people more than he had anyone else in the universe, and he turned his back on the soldiers and sprinted for the stairs.

He took them two at a time, sometimes three, using his jetpack to propel him faster. As he climbed, an anxious sense of terror clawed it’s way up his throat. Lance always responded. Whether witty, intense, or breathless, he always responded. To not respond just wasn’t in his character.

He rounded the last step and froze.

Lance was pressed into the wall that looked down on the room they were in. Why they couldn’t see him. His gun was gone, back to the red bayard, lifeless a few feet from his grasping fingers. Why he wasn’t shooting. There was a Galra soldier pressing a clawed hand to his throat, Lance’s lips parted in a desperate, airless gasp as the enemy soldier drove a blade deeper into the slim gap between armor pieces on his gut. His helmet was on the floor.

Why he hadn’t responded.

Keith’s vision went red and he screamed. Grabbed his knife from it’s holster on his back and whipped it full force. It spiraled and shifted into a sword mid-throw, embedding with a sickening thud into the side of the Galra’s head and sending him toppling to the ground in a heap.

The Galra’s sword was ripped from Lance’s side at the impact and Lance gasped, both hands clinging to the wound as Keith raced over to him and slid to his knees next to him, barely sparing a glance for the attacker, and only long enough of a glance to make sure he was dead. “Shit, shit, shit,” Keith hissed, letting his own trembling hands hover over Lance’s stomach.

Lance’s swallow was audible. “I’m fine,” he grunted, shifting a little. “He wanted information first, not…not to kill me. He was holding back.”

Keith’s mouth was dry. His heart was somewhere in his ears as he settled a careful hand over Lance’s. He remembered his team a second later. “We need emergency evac,” he said into the comms.

“What’s happened?” Allura demanded.

“Lance is hurt,” Keith clipped. “Pidge, Hunk-”

“Only a minute away from full upload of the servers,” Pidge informed him. Her voice echoed from where he could hear it below them. A deafening blast informed Keith that she and Hunk were still being attacked. “If I quit now, we only get about 37% of it.”

“Then quit,” Keith snapped.

“Don’t,” Lance managed. He lifted a hand, bloody, to cover Keith’s, and spoke louder so the team could hear him through Keith’s comms. “It’s only a minute. It’ll take that long for Allura and Coran to get down here anyway. Keep going. Hold off those Galra.”

“I’m trying, buddy,” Hunk grunted. His voice was breathless. “On your six, Keith, coming your way.”

Keith reached back and grabbed his blade from the fallen Galra’s head, looking at Lance. “Stay,” he ordered.

Lance snorted, pressing harder to his stomach. “Like I have a choice.”

Keith took a stance in front of his teammate and braced himself as three Galra charged up the stairs. Two had guns, one a knife. They stopped for a second, took stock of the situation, and then one of the ones with a gun took aim at Lance.

The red returned and Keith dove at them. He lost track of his movements, twisting, ducking, grabbing, stabbing, yanking. A stinging pain on his leg alerted him to being injured, but it was swept away when another gun was aimed at Lance, who now had his shield up.

It didn’t matter. Keith wasn’t going to let them anywhere near him. He stabbed one of the gunmen through the throat, watched him fall, spun again. Clashed swords, and in the struggle, summoned his bayard to push through the chest of the swordsman. He hit the floor.

The last gunman, bleeding, managed one shot. Lance, though groggy, deflected it off his shield, but Keith still tackled the soldier, brought him to the floor. He stabbed him, again and again, rage bubbling up inside him, something like a choked sob spilling from his lips at some point.

A hand settled on his shoulder, careful, tentative, and Keith whirled, freezing when he saw Lance there.

He was bent double, one arm wrapped around his torso, and when he locked eyes with Keith, his jaw went slack. There were tears in his eyes, though whether it was from pain or from watching his teammate fully murder three people, Keith didn’t know.

He faltered, falling back into his senses, and looked down at his hands.

Claws.

The blade clattered to the floor and Keith lifted his hands quickly, wrenching off his helmet. Lance sucked in a breath right as Keith felt the fur around his ears, saw the purple tint to his skin, and he whimpered against his better judgement.

“I’m-”

“Hey.”

Lance had dropped to his knees in front of Keith, and now he eased him off of the dead Galra soldier. His free hand stayed firm on Keith’s shoulder. “Look at me,” Lance whispered.

Keith’s lip quivered, but he did as he asked. Lance softened a little at his look, and his mouth quirked in a humorless chuckle. “You have cat eyes.”

Keith shot his hands up to his eyes, nearly jabbing his claws into them, and Lance winced, reaching up to grab his fingers, not even flinching at the fur. “Hey,” he said again, soft. “That’s not what I meant. It’s okay, dude.”

“It’s…it’s not, I’m…I…”

“You,” Lance said slowly, lowering Keith’s hands to his lap and then lifting his own hand again and settling it unwaveringly against his purple cheek. “Saved my life. Galra or not. Thought we were past this?”

Keith bit his lip, wrinkling his nose at the prickle of fangs. “It’s different when I look like them,” he murmured, looking down at the floor.

“You’re not them,” Lance promised, keeping his voice low. “Breathe with me, dude. In.”

Keith hadn’t realized how hard his heart was pounding until he started forcing it to slow down, but Lance’s voice eased him. As he watched, his claws retreated, his skin eased back to it’s normal shade. He felt his fangs retract, and by the time Hunk got up to them, he was normal again.

Lance, fully exhausted, looked up at Hunk with a weary smile. “Hunk, my man. Get Red for me?”

He passed out into Keith’s lap.

The pod fixed him in less than six hours.

“Just a stab wound,” Coran said, as if it was a normal thing.

Keith supposed it was, around this place.

He left Pidge and Hunk to go over their findings from the base with Coran and Allura, too anxious about Lance to even leave the pod room after he got his own knife wound (very minor) bandaged. He sat there for about four and a half hours, aimlessly twirling his knife, before the pod beeped, indicating that it was about to open. Keith stood quickly, sheathing the knife, and prepared himself.

Lance stumbled out and Keith steadied him gently. He wasn’t as bad as he had been the first time, though that was probably because of the significant decrease in time in the pod, but for a moment he still swayed. When he finally blinked clearly, he looked at Keith in confusion.

“Was I in long?”

“Only a couple hours,” Keith assured him.

“So…why did you wait for me?”

Keith faltered, let his hand drop from Lance’s shoulder. “I uh…I wanted to make sure you were okay. Apologize.”

“Apo-? What the fuck for, dude?”

Keith shifted, glancing away, rubbing his neck. “Going all feral back there, putting you in danger with the mission in the first place. Putting you all in that kind of danger, I…I’d never forgive myself if-”

“Okay first of all,” Lance interrupted, crossing his arms and looking a little peeved, “we all agreed on the mission. It was a team effort, and hopefully it gets us closer to finding Shiro. Second, you didn’t go feral, man.”

Keith flinched and crossed his arms, rubbing his hands up and down his shoulders. “I sprouted fur, Lance, I don’t know how much more feral I could get.”

“Full furry? I don’t know dude, but that wasn’t feral,” Lance chuckled. His smile was fond when Keith looked up. Lance reached out, hesitated, settled for putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You got protective. That’s all. And I appreciate that.”

Keith bit his lip, gnawed on it. “Can we…not tell the team about it? I’m…I know everyone says they’re okay with…with me being half Galra, b-but it’s different. Seeing it, I mean.”

Lance softened and squeezed Keith’s shoulder. “Of course, man. I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to. But they won’t care. We love you regardless.”

Against his will, Keith’s cheeks burned at the affection in Lance’s voice. He looked down, swallowing, trying to remember how to speak. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” Lance said, his voice low.

He leaned in, and before Keith could process, he brushed a gentle kiss across his cheek. “Now let’s go see the results we risked our lives for, mm? Plus I’m starving, dude.”

Lance practically skipped out of the room, leaving Keith to follow with his hands pressed against the goddamn cherry that used to be his face and his heart practically jumping out of his throat. His palms were sweating.

Shit.

Why the fuck was nothing ever simple?

#klance #my writing #voltron #vld #klance whump #blood tw #injury tw #galra keith #keith is very gay and lance is super into it

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petersmparker · 5 years

Text

The River Café (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Flash Thompson x Reader (as a Plot Device™️ (that I ended up being lowkey attached to?? hit me up flash))

Summary: You’ve decided that you’re going to go out and have a nice time, insistent feelings for your best friend Peter Parker or otherwise.

Word Count: 3757

Warnings: a spicey hint of sailor’s mouth

A/N: I started this two days ago and nearly shitcanned it but now I’m like... kinda in love with it?? I hope y’all like it, I know sticking Flash up in there is unusual but honestly I dig how it came together and I hope everyone’s willing to give it a shot 💙❤️ and also believe me when I say that Flash’s name is legitimately Eugene I fucking swear it (side note: consider this part of my congratulations to @moonstruckholland for one year on her blog!! I hope you enjoy this girl idk what your fic prefs are)

"Let's go on a date friday night."

Your group of friends has grown together over the past few years. Leaps and bounds past what you ever might have expected, even. It’s something that you still find yourself reassessing sometimes; occasionally getting caught off guard by something that’s actually pretty natural by now. You can’t help but be pleasantly surprised, though, when you catch yourself thinking back to what it was while witnessing what it is.

Sophomore year of highschool was a ton of awkwardness wrapped up in a silly belief that everyone had already become the person they were meant to be. Senior year, you find it much more appealing to declare just how much no one knows that they’re doing.

The one constant for you in all this time has been Peter. Peter, ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-working, has not remained static in his existence. He has, however, stayed unwaveringly connected to you. For him, you do the same.

You’re there when Uncle Ben dies, sitting in the stairwell of the funeral home when Peter can’t handle another person passing on their condolences. It’s you who makes Peter do his homework and study for his tests when he determines that he doesn’t need school anymore. Your eyes follow him as he sprints from the gymnasium on the night of homecoming, and again later when he decides to sneak off the bus to investigate the space ship descending upon New York. When you wake up on the other side of the Blip, it’s you who runs to Peter’s apartment to find him mourning the loss of his mentor.

“Don’t you get tired?” Peter asked once in junior year, as you wiped blood from his side with a wet wash cloth, fuming over the newest live report of J Jonah Jameson, “You don’t wish you didn’t have to deal with all of this?”

“Never,” you had responded, “I. . . I love you, Pete.”

Peter had given you a small, weak smile and returned to digging through the first aid kit, seemingly untouched by your admission. It’s not difficult to assume that he had interpreted it friendly in nature, and you figure that that’s proof enough of his nonexistent feelings for you.

That's why, a year later-- assured in the belief that Peter views you only as a friend and comfortable enough in the fact that you’re still figuring this whole life thing out-- you decide to accept the offer of one Flash Thompson for a date.

What’s the harm, you figure. It seems casual enough, and Flash had mellowed out over the years. He's no longer quite so quick to tease others or flaunt his wealth, and had become a relatively decent friend of yours. Worst case scenario, it’s awkward, you get a free meal, and the both of you continue on to pretend it didn’t happen. Best case. . .

Maybe you move on from Peter.

Peter shows up unannounced at your door late Friday afternoon with a backpack full of schoolwork and snacks. It's not unusual of him at all, and yet when you hurry to answer the door, the sight of him catches you by surprise.

His gaze flicks upward to your wet hair, twisted into a towel, and then down to your hands, which you're holding out cautiously to avoid ruining a fresh coat of black polish. The confusion on his face is amused in nature. You're not normally one to paint your nails unless there's an event going on.

"Uh, hi, Peter," you say, trying not to sound unwelcoming.

This is such bad timing.

"Hey," he greets, hand wrapping around the strap of his backpack, "What's up? I was thinking we could do homework for an hour and then give up to watch movies instead."

You hadn't told Peter about the date. Telling him, you feared, would feel like you were asking for him to disapprove. To ask you not to go. It wasn't a disappointment you were willing to inflict upon yourself. Not when you were feeling a bit of hope for the outcome of the date. You wanted to be enthusiastic; wanted to enjoy the company of a friend and see if something could come out of it that was more than hopeless pining.

"I kind of have plans," you admit, unable to meet his eye.

Confusion colors his tone now, too. "Oh, really? Well, uh, do you mind if I come in for a little while anyway? Since I'm here. I need a bit of help with the English assignment."

Part of you wants to say no. But you can't look at Peter Parker and turn him away, and so you back up to let him into your apartment. He knows the way to your room by now and leads the way there. Every available surface is littered with items of clothing. He'd seen your room somewhat messy before, but you can tell he isn't expecting it to look like a tornado has been through your closet. You avoid his eyes, embarrassed, when he turns to give you a questioning look.

He throws himself onto your bed, shifting to sit with his back against the headboard, and digs a notebook from his bag. After a moment, he pulls a dress out from under himself and puts it aside.

You find yourself standing awkwardly in the doorway. A glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand tells you that Flash will be picking you up in only forty-five minutes. Peter clearly doesn't intend to leave until he's asked, and you don't have the will to ask. Which means you're going to have to just finish getting ready, anyway, and send him off before Flash arrives.

"What did you need help with?" You ask, going over to the dresser to look into the mirror above it.

You remove the towel from your hair to find that it's mostly dry. Satisfied, you brush it all back, away from your face. You see him looking at you in the mirror, but attempt to ignore it. It's already uncomfortable enough preparing for a date in front of the guy you're in love with. Must he make you feel weird for prettying yourself up a bit, even inadvertently?

What did I do to deserve this? you wonder, and apply a hint of peach eyeshadow with the tip of your finger.

He looks back to the notebook. You pretend not to notice that, either.

"The argumentative essay," he says finally, with a sigh, "Mr. Sharpton said my thesis needs work."

"Sharpton tends to be a picky little bitch. Read it to me," you instruct, dabbing glitter onto your eyelids and across your freckles.

He does. It's not the worst thesis statement. The intention is clear. Peter's always been better with math and science, but he's never been hopeless with English, either. "Well, you've got all three prongs already," you start, before pausing to apply a healthy amount of clear gloss, "They're just not parallel. It sounds awkward. For what you're trying to say, you could probably just reorganize the sentence, but structure it around the phrase, 'Through the author's use of. . . '" you wave your hand, indicating his points, "'. . .blah blah blah is represented.'"

Peter hums in understanding, followed by the scratching of pen against paper. You take the time to apply mascara and go about picking through the clothes strewn around the room to reassess what to wear. Kneeling on the floor, you throw various clothes back toward the open closet door.

Too casual, too dressy, too casual, too casual, that's stained, ew.

Your cell phone beeps on the bedside table. The sound of pen on paper ceases. Before you can say anything, Peter, who've never minded reading your texts, picks it up out of habit. He reads the message out to you.

"Um. Flash says to wear something fancy?" He says, sounding disconcerted.

The sick feeling in your stomach is immediate.

"Uhh. Thanks."

You pull the black dress that you'd deemed too dressy back out of the closet, hoping to appear more casual and less about-to-vomit. Thirty minutes left. Not even that much. Just twenty minutes and you could have sent Peter home none the wiser and had an extra ten to hype yourself up for this date, but now you're confronted with the fact that Peter knows. He knows and you're going to have to hear about it.

"You're going out with Flash?" He asks as you attempt to quell your nerves by focusing very hard on removing the couple of cat hairs that stick to the velvet material of the dress.

"Yeah."

"Like, on a date?"

"Yeah."

You risk a glance at Peter. His expression is unreadable. The sight of it makes your stomach twist. To escape it, you step into the closet and close the door under the guise of changing clothes.

"How did that happen?" Peter calls through the door.

You wince. There's something in his tone like disappointment, and you realize that you never considered the possibility that he might judge you for your willingness to go on a date with Flash. Sure, they were something like friends nowadays, but maybe that didn't mean Peter actually genuinely liked the guy. The prospect of having just lost Peter's respect is like a needle to the heart.

"He- He asked me out after decathlon the other day. I thought it might be fun."

"That's. . . interesting," Peter says, tone still off in some way.

The feeling that spreads through you is gross. There's a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate it. This was supposed to be something simple, something nice you could enjoy for yourself. You don't want Peter to ruin it for you, whether or not that's his intention.

You tug on the dress hurriedly and exit the closet, doing your best to maintain some sort of neutrality in your expression. "Flash is my friend. He said he that he kinda likes me and it seemed like it would be nice to go out with him," you say, "Whats wrong with that, Peter?"

Peter looks like he's been accused. Your tone wasn't as calm as intended, so it's no surprise.

"Nothing!" He responds, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture, "It's just- it's weird, isn't it?"

It feels like the air has been sucked out of your room. Your ears ring. In the back of your head, you know-- you know he only means it's weird because it's Flash you're about to go out with. But you're being faced with a conversation you didn't want, forced to acknowledge that you were never going to just find a person who makes you laugh and be able to just get the hell over Peter, and what comes out reflects the hurt feelings that are eating at you in the moment.

"Weird?" You demand, "Is it really so goddamn weird that someone could have feelings for me, Peter? Just because you don't-!"

Anger and hurt clouds your brain and you lose your train of thought entirely, breaking off in an involuntary scoff. You snatch your shoes off the floor and your apartment keys off the dresser. It isn't until you've stalked over to the nightstand to grab your phone that you continue.

"I'm leaving. I'm going on that date with Flash and I'm going to enjoy myself. Lock the door on your way out."

Peter's still on the bed, unmoved. He looks more startled than he's ever been by something you've said, and then even more so when you toss the apartment keys in his direction.

When you storm out of your own home, shoes still clutched in your hand, you try desperately to wipe from your mind the image of the shocked look on your best friend's face.

The date is nice.

Like, actually, genuinely nice.

Flash happens to arrive at your building just in time to find you gazing hard into the glass of the lobby. You're swiping frustratedly at the mascara that has run with the few angry tears you couldn't prevent. You manage to play the makeup off as no big deal, but his eyes drift immediately to your bare feet and the shoes clutched in your left hand. There's no good explanation for being shoeless on a New York City street.

"Do I want to ask?" He questions, looking kinda grossed out and at least moderately concerned.

"Please don't," you answer.

He opens the car door for you like you haven't already ruined your chances of impressing him, and you can't help but marvel at how different he is from the Flash of two years ago, who would most definitely have gotten back in his car and sped off.

The drive is long and Flash won't tell you what the destination is. You pass the time with chatter, not all that different from what you'd probably be exchanging in study hall. The convertible's roof is down, which makes it difficult not to look up for a hint of red and blue passing by, but Flash stares up openly for his idol when the car is stopped.

You don't think Spider-Man will be out tonight.

After a while, you cross the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash hands the keys over to the valet of the restaurant and helps you out of the car. He makes a joke about how your shoes better be on, but you barely hear.

"Flash, really?"

"What?"

The entrance to the restaurant is beautiful, lit with warm-colored string lights and surrounded by luscious greenery. You recognize the name on the sign, hand-painted in green; your parents had come here for their 25th anniversary a while back.

"This place is really fucking expensive," you say, and suddenly become very aware of the fact that you hadn't brought your wallet.

"I like the side dishes here," he says, like the scalloped potatoes wouldn’t cost a normal person half a fridge of groceries.

"You're nuts."

Flash buttons the top two buttons of his plaid suit jacket and takes your hand. Your stomach flips. From nerves or guilt, you're not sure. It's probably both.

"Do you have a reservation?" Asks the Maître D' when you enter.

You're prepared to have to leave, figuring that a spot at a swanky place like this would need to be reserved months in advance, but Flash pulls out his license to show to the man.

"Yes we do. 6:30, under the name Eugene Thompson."

"This way then, Mr. Thompson."

Your table next to the window overlooks the East River. The dining room has already begun to fill with the dinner rush and the little band in the corner is playing a sweet-sounding song. The menu is astronomically expensive, but Flash urges you to get whatever you want. You settle for the cheapest chicken dish on the menu and take to watching the boats pass beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash orders a meat and cheese plate to start, unsurprisingly, and arranges combinations on bread and crackers for you to try.

It's more fun than you ever expected it to be, honestly. You'd been prepared for Flash to be a bit much after having agreed to let him choose the date, but he's just trying to make sure you enjoy yourself. He makes jokes and laughs at your own. Refills your drink from the water flute before you've even noticed you've gotten low. Offers you a taste of his meal. You're distracted, Peter no longer at the forefront of your mind.

With Flash, it's easy.

"I'll be honest, Eugene," you start, teasingly, and giggle at Flash's fake-annoyed attempt to jokingly swat at the side of your head, "This is. . . This is really, really nice. My wig is sufficiently snatched."

He busts out laughing, earning a look from those at nearby tables. After a few moments, he quiets and takes to smiling down at his steak.

His smile softens into something a bit awkward, maybe somewhat unsure, when he says, “Can I ask you something?”

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat. When is that question ever a good sign? “I- uh, yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

“What’s up with you and Parker?”

When you meet Flash’s eye, he doesn’t appear accusatory. He doesn’t even seem upset. More than anything, you’d say he looks confused. You, however, can feel heat rising aggressively to your cheeks.

You feel guilty again.

“Peter? What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly in response and sets down his fork. “Oh, come on now. You like him right? Since like, middle school.”

You know you’ve never really actively tried to hide it from anyone, but having it said aloud like that is jarring. It’s embarrassing. You wonder why Flash wants to talk about this, of all things, when your date had actually been going pretty darn well. But you decide to be honest, since fooling him is unrealistic.

“A while, yeah.”

“Then why are you on a date with me right now?” Flash questions.

“You. . . you asked me out?” You answer confusedly.

He passes a hand through his hair a bit agitatedly. You hope he isn’t annoyed with you, but you aren’t sure what he’s expecting you to say.

“I mean,” he clarifies, a laugh escaping his lips, “Why the hell aren’t you dating him? It’s been years already. Did you guys decide that you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship? What’s up?”

It seems that your brain is exclusively capable of performing the sound of a record scratch on repeat. You have no idea how to respond to anything Flash has just said. None of it makes sense. Peter doesn’t like you. He never has. If Flash has paid enough attention to notice how much you like your best friend, surely he should have noticed that your affection is definitely not returned.

You don't want to think about it. You don't want a spark of hope, only for it to be stomped on. Today's events alone have been proof enough that Peter doesn't like you.

"Why did you ask me out if you knew I like Peter?" You question, staring down at your half-eaten chicken parmesan.

"Why did you agree if you like Peter?"

You can feel him looking at you. When you decide to meet his eye, you're scared to see the hurt that's in them.

It's not there.

"You were hoping to get over him, right?" Flash asks, half a smile on his face, "I was hoping you would, too."

He takes your hand for the first time since you entered the restaurant, and you realize that if anything, he maybe kind of gets it.

“Peter doesn’t have feelings for me,” you manage to say, after several long moments of silence have passed.

“Dude, Parker’s in love with you.”

Considering everything, the ride home isn't nearly as awkward as it could have been.

Flash parks a little ways down the street from your building. He doesn't get up to help you out of the car like he had before. You can't really hold that against him.

"Sorry about all this," you say, guilt still swirling low in your gut, after you've shut the passenger side door.

He side eyes you when he says, "Don't flatter yourself, honey, I'll get over it," and grins, "Go tell Parker that I will actually straight up call my lawyers if he fucks this up now that I've laid all this shit out for him."

With that, he waves his hand once and then pulls away from the curb.

Thanks Eugene, is the text you send him during the walk home.

He responds with selfie of him flipping off the camera, and things are just about as close to normal between you as you figure they can be, for now. It's with a laugh that you send one back, shoes once again clutched in your flipping-off hand as you knock on the door to your apartment and wait for your parents to let you in.

Peter opens the door.

Your smile freezes in its place and then falls. His gaze averts quickly to the floor, like he's just done something wrong. You aren't sure what to say to him. "You're still here," you settle on pointing out, eventually.

"How'd it go?" He asks, skipping over the part where he explains the fact that he's still in your apartment.

He looks very much like he doesn't want to hear the answer, but also like he's trying to sound enthusiastic for you. Your heart aches. It's been hours since you'd left, and he's been sitting here marinating in the fight. Meanwhile, while you were fine dining with a friend who turned out to be way better of a friend than you'd thought he was.

"We enjoyed ourselves," you admit.

"Oh," he responds, voice a bit shaky, "That's good. I mean- It's great. That's really great. I'm glad. I'm happy for you."

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

Your throat wants to close when you look into his eyes, but you press on.

"Are you in love with me?"

". . .Yeah."

Despite the fact that you grasp the front of his shirt in your fist when you lean in to kiss him, it's neither hurried nor forceful. It's a response, and an assurance. You pull back enough to see his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then kiss him a second time, just a peck.

He leans his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. The tension that he must have been holding in his body releases, and you feel his stance soften with your hand still against his chest.

"I should have told you," he murmurs, reaching up to cup your jaw.

You can't help but crack a smile. "Yeah, Pete. Flash had to tell me. On our date."

"That's so awkward."

You laugh. "You're tellin' me."

He leans away from you when he exclaims, suppressing his laughter, "Hey, you didn't tell me, either!"

"Oh my god, Peter," you gush, "Yes I did! Over a year ago!"

His smile falls like he's just had the air knocked out of him. "You what?"

"Oh my god," you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief, "oh my god."

Peter falls into a slew of apologies, but you're starting to laugh, and they start to die on his lips just ask quickly as they had begun to form. You pull him forward by his shirt once more and kiss him in the doorway, revelling in the ridiculousness of it all.

"I'm in love with you too," you sigh.

If his delighted smile weren't already enough, the kiss that follows more than makes up for it.

Tag list

@undiadeestos

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction #flash thompson #flash thompson x reader

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survivorparr · 5 years

Text

the sun and her moon, pt 2/8 (Don’t Lose Ur Head)

In Which Choreography is Rehearsed and Cathy Comes Back from Vacation

(aka Yes, those are Definitely the tEchNicaL names for that choreography, No, I do Not take constructive criticism)

•

“Alright, ladies! Brilliant show this afternoon, just a few things I want to clean up,” Grace announced.

“Brilliant show yourself - truly, Grace, you’ve been nothing short of incredible,” Aragon commended her.

“Yeah, mate, the crowd was going bonkers after I Don’t Need your Love, did you hear?” Anna added.

Grace turned red and smiled bashfully. “Thanks, you lot, that’s really kind! And thanks so much for being so great these past few weeks,” she replied.

“Aww, round of applause for Gracie!” The girls whooped, cheered, and clapped for their friend, eventually gathering her into a group hug.

“Alright, alright, I feel very loved, but now, there’s choreography that needs touching up!” Grace scanned the faces around her. “Let’s start with the second half of Don’t Need Your Love seeing as Cath hasn’t made it back just yet, and I can mark her track for now. Can we go from ‘you might think it’s tough’?”

Jane noticed that poor Anne looked lost in thought, just positively elsewhere, but she quickly snapped out of her fog when she noticed the others staring. “What? Sorry, yeah, sounds good”.

“If nobody objects, I’m just gonna speak the lyrics in rhythm instead of singing, yeah? My voice is a little shot from that last set of riffs,” Grace admitted. The queens took their places, Grace smiling at Anne from Cathy’s place at the other end of the stage. C’mon Anne, get your heart in it. She exhaled deeply.

“Five, six, ‘And you might think it’s tough...’”

Jump cross out, jump cross out

Slooow circle, back it up, jump

“I don’t need your-”

Hop and kick and step and shake and

Leg, throw, rock-cross-out and

Body roll, hips,

Arms, arms, shuffle left, shuffle right

“Hmm... could we do it again from the roll? There’s something a bit wonky happening with the shuffley bit at the very end, and the arms just before are getting a tad lazy. Remember, you’re supposed to look regal! I’m gonna watch this time, so just... pretend Cathy’s here or something, I don’t know”.

(Anne tried to ignore the way her breath caught in her chest)

“Y’know what, just back all the way up to ‘tough’ so I can see the whole thing”. The girls obliged and reset their formation.

“Alright here we go... Five, six, ‘And you mi-’”

“‘-ight think it’s tough, but I’ve got to let your love run cold, we’re taking back control, darling you should know-”

As she walked backwards to her next spot, Anne searched the mirror in front of her for the source of the melodious voice that had suddenly taken over Grace’s marking. A flash of electric blue moving towards the front of the room caught her eye. Cath.

“I don’t need your love, no, no-”

Anne felt an exhilarating surge of energy course through her body. Suddenly, every jump and bounce felt electrified. “Can’t let it get the better of us, no, no”.

The segment of choreo that Grace has asked to see had ended, but that wasn’t stopping anyone. Cathy was moving to take her spot center stage for the riff chorus, and the others (most by now having joined in singing the backups) were encroaching in on her.

Anne swayed her hips back and forth as she sang, bouncing up and down along with Aragon and pausing for a moment to lean her head on Jane’s shoulder. All the while though, she kept half an eye on Cathy - Cathy sinking to the ground as her voice rose upwards in a scoop, Cathy coolly staring down an imaginary audience as she confidently strutted forward, Cathy’s eyes closed and her head thrown just slightly back as she released a chillingly powerful riff.

The girls punched their fists in the air, having reached the end of the number. Within moments, they were a pile of limbs and hair, each grabbing at any visible pieces of Cathy.

“Welcome back, darling!!”

“-missed you so-“

“-look right tan-“

“-good to see you!”

“God, I’ve missed you guys so much! I never thought I’d say this, but it felt weird having that much alone time,” Cathy laughed.

“We want to hear all about your trip,” Kat pressed.

“I’ll tell you all about it, but I’ve got a feeling this one isn’t done with us yet,” said Cathy, squeezing Grace around the shoulders and playfully tousling her hair. Anne involuntarily raised an eyebrow. “How’d you hold up then, Amazing Grace?”

“I felt pretty good about it, honestly!”

“Pretty good? She was bloody brilliant,” Anne interjected. Cathy tilted her head up to meet Anne’s eyes (had they always been so green?). While she’d been away, she’d noticed that on more than one occasion, Anne’s jarring Northern accent had popped into her head uninvited with a running commentary of sorts. Cathy wasn’t unpleased so much as surprised - she was fond of Anne, but she tended to spend more time around Aragon and Jane.

Cathy finally smiled. “I’ll bet she was. Did you get her to buy into your Cotton Eyed Joe idea?”

Anne cackled wickedly. “HAH - as if”.

“Your what now?” Jane inquired.

“It’s nothing, it’s stu-“

“Every night during intermission, Anne walks right up to me while I’m meditating and begs me to do the Cotton Eyed Joe with her when we dance together during Kitty’s part of the Megasix. Refuses to leave well enough alone, too - I swear, she just sits there making puppy dog eyes at me. Eventually, I realized I could get her to stop by plugging my ears and singing the Green Giant commercial jingle at her really really loudly and very off-key.”

Anne grinned, snickering at the memory. “Hey now, don’t expect me to help next time you can’t reach the top shelf”.

She took notice of Cathy’s barely-rumpled cropped cerulean hoodie and white lace-up joggers. Two immaculate Dutch braids ran down from the tip of her forehead and hung over her shoulders, edges perfectly set. Jeez, how does she still look like that after a day of airport travel? She suddenly felt self-conscious about her cut-up tiger t-shirt, sweatpants, and unruly top knot.

“Alright queens, back to it - we want to get out of here at a reasonable hour, don’t we? That last shuffle step looked much sharper to me, so let’s move on to No Way. Let me see the formation in the first chorus where you do the hands on shoulders bit”. The girls moved into their diamond with Aragon in the front, Anne and Cathy standing just off her shoulders.

“Can we hold and check the spacing on this?” Grace called. Everyone put their hands in position.

It must’ve been at least 6 full seconds before Anne realized her fingertips were brushing against Cathy’s where their hands met behind Aragon’s back. Inhaling sharply, she jerked her hand away and looked hastily to her left. Cathy shot her a quizzical look. “Sorry,” Anne mouthed at her, repositioning her hand slightly. “You’re fine,” Cathy mouthed back.

“Spacing looks better, let me see the diamond thingy in motion. Five, six, seven, eight, one-”

“If you thought for a moment-’”

Cath felt the beat pulsing through her as she bounced. She’d missed Aragon’s brassy, confident vocals. Slide, slide, twirl... it had been weeks, but she found she slipped back into the choreography with ease. Cross stage right in front of Anne, then fall in line behind Jane. She caught Anne’s eye as they passed each other and smiled at her. Anne reciprocated with one of her unfathomably odd (yet endearing) facial expressions as the two took their places in line. The girls giggled wildly as they body rolled opposite each other before stepping into their final poses of the chorus.

“YES, could everyone turn and watch Anne and Cathy do that last roll? If each one of you would put that much sauce into it, I could die a happy dance captain. Let’s see it again, you two: one, two, three, four-”

There was no time for Anne to panic or to process the heat of all the eyes watching her. All she could do was stare unwaveringly at Cathy as the two of them moved in unison (This was probably for the better, seeing as off to the side, Kat was tugging excitedly at Jane’s sleeve, and behind Anne and Cathy, Cleves was demonstrating her approval with some very suggestive dance moves).

It suddenly felt incredibly warm in the room. Head swimming, Anne could barely register anything else that was happening until Jane walked over, holding her green water bottle out to her. She reached out to touch Anne’s forehead.

“You alright there, darling? You feel a little warm. Anything bothering you?”

“I’m alright, just a little tired”.

“Really? So you’re definitely... not hot, or bothered? Not even in the slightest?”

“I told you, I’m fine, Jane, promise. You’re the one being massively weird, ya kook!”

“Alright, then. Just as long as you know that if something were going on, you could tell me, or any of us”.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re such a mom?”

“Yeah, I might’ve heard that once or twice.” Jane rubbed Anne’s back affectionately before leaving her to her thoughts.

Anne looked around to see where Cathy had gone to so she could apologize for her awkward staring, and then for her awkward fingers (again), but Cathy was across the room with Grace reviewing the most recent set of choreo changes to Kat’s number. For a moment, Anne stood transfixed by the duo’s equally fluid movements, but she was then pulled back to reality by a sudden twinge in her gut. Man, pull it together. I swear, Boleyn, whatever’s got you so jumpy, I sure hope it lets up soon.

#parrlyn #catherine parr #anne boleyn #katherine howard #grace mouat #six the musical #six #millie o'connell #maiya quansah breed

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itschimmychimchims · 5 years

Text

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

♡ seokjin x reader

♡ smut, college!au, bestfriends!au, growing up after that

♡ smut, slight dirty talking, angst, mentions of divorce

♡ I really don’t see a lot of pictures, fan-cams and stories or posts about my boy Seokjin, so this one’s for him. I really can’t even express how beautiful this giant human bean is and I only want him to be the happiest, brightest star ever sobs!!!!!!! Hope you guys like this suuuuuper long one-shot HAHA, enjoy!!

—

Did you ever have those friends you missed more than anything, remembering their name and having distinct memories of just small moments with them; Not whole scenes but snippets of a life long past, and a feeling of longing to go back and refresh your mind, painting a more complete picture or to find those missing pieces?

Seokjin was that friend. And there he stood, right in front of me, 5 years after we had last spoken to each other, in my cafe. His bright honey-brown eyes, his lips and the way his hair was lightly tousled to reveal a bit of his forehead - they were all the same. The only thing that had changed was that now the air between us was colder than that which strangers shared.

“Hi.”

10 years ago. That was the first time I met Seokjin. We were in our tenth year of high school, paired together for Home Ec class elective. Our school had just changed its system, making all students take one course that contributed to Holistic Education. I liked food and making it, so Home Ec was an obvious choice. None of my friends liked it, taking Wildlife Studies or Astrology instead, leaving me completely alone in the foreign class. Everyone had already found their pairs while I sat in the front corner, waiting for the teacher to assign me to another group or session with another lonely soul.

“Hey, do you have a partner yet?” A voice from beside me says and I snapped back to the real world. Surprisngly, it wasn’t the homeroom teacher but a jock-vibe guy who had already put his bag down on the space beside me, easing into the seat.

“No, I took Home Ec alone.” I answered truthfully.

“Great, so did I. Let’s partner up, I can’t afford to switch sessions because I have extra credit.” He smiles at me, his voice unwaveringly confident, as if I’d already said yes. It intrigued me.

“Sure.” I nodded, shimmying to the side to give him more room to get his notepad out of his khaki backpack.

“My name’s Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin.” He smiles again, extending a hand. I took it, smiling back.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Seokjin.”

—

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Jin said in an annoyed tone.

We were at a party thrown by one of his friends, Taehyung. He was a happy-go-lucky, mysterious soul, throwing parties every other week, most likely in hopes to meet one particular person. He had a somewhat Gatsby-like resemblance. Taehyung was nice.

“Why? You’re tired?” I asked, as I finally finished my first cup of vodka-punch that night. Jin and I had been playing billiards with two of our friends, Hoseok and Jungkook. As I was waiting my turn, a few guys had come up to me in their drunken state, coaxing me to follow them up into one of the rooms for a supposed “good time”. Jin had glared at them and told the juniors to scram. Ever since then, Jin had seemed rather on edge. By then, he had probably downed more than 5 cups of that vodka-punch, plus the few shots that Hoseok had egged him on to down with him.

“I’m just not feeling it.” Jin said, putting his empty cup down on a random table, already full of empty cups. I hadn’t caught on to what had pissed him off so much, so I brushed it off.

“Let’s go to the roof for some air, you’re just annoyed because it’s too warm. You get like that sometimes.” I said lightheartedly, trying to make him less annoyed. Having known him for almost 5 years at that point, I knew him all too well.

With that, his expression did relax a little and he let out a sigh, signalling his compliance with my suggestion. We walked up to the roof, where the air was crisp and there was a small breeze that ran through my hair. I still had long hair back then. Up on the roof, we weren’t the only ones, but it was still a lot less noisy than the EDM-fuelled mosh pit downstairs. The faint sounds of a couple more-than-making-out could be heard, but at this point it was already a norm at parties like that in college.

Jin and I shared a plush sofa and a comfortable silence.

With Jin, it was always very natural and never awkward. Even when we’d disagree with each other on many things, one thing we always agreed on was to talk things out until we were okay again.

“What’s up, Jin?” I asked, putting my hand on his knee. “Why’re you moody all of a sudden?” Seokjin’s brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head.

“It might be the alcohol. The shots with Hobi might have been a bit much after those vodka-punch cups.” He said in a low tone. Somehow, it wasn’t convincing.

“Kim Seokjin.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve known you for 4 going on 5 years. You drank half a barrel of beer and downed 7 tequila shots, didn’t puke and was still clearheaded enough to do a math question. You can’t be hammered over 5 cups of vodka-punch and a few watered down shots.” Seokjin pinched his nosebridge.

“Damn this friendship.” He rolled his eyes. I scoffed, but continued waiting patiently to answer my question with a proper response.

“I didn’t like those drunk guys.” He said carefully.

“The ones that were bothering me?”

“Yeah they killed the mood.” He replied simply.

“Yeah a little. Don’t worry about retards like that, let’s just enjoy ourselves.” I told him, patting his leg. He seemed to be in a better mood so I changed the topic.

“Where are you headed after graduation?” I asked. We’d never really talked about it. Jin and I talked about our dream jobs and what we wanted to achieve but I never heard any concrete plans from him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even know if I still want to open that restaurant. College makes you just rethink it all, you know?” Jin said. In front of others, he was always the joker, the positive soul, cracking jokes with his never-ceasing confidence. That’s why I relished the moments he chose to confide in me his fears or insecurities. I would always bring him through his thought process, breaking every thought down and slowly leading him back to his goals.

“Why are you rethinking it?”

“To be really honest, cooking’s a hobby. I mean, I love it, and I’m good at it...” Jin began. “...but I’m good at things that make money too, even if I’m not crazy about it.” I knew what he was talking about.

“So it’s stability and the mundane, versus instability and passion.” I summed it up. He stares at me, nodding.

“You always know what I mean, and I love that.” Jin remarks, throwing his head back on the sofa, letting out a sigh.

“Your parents want you to get into Finance again?”

“Yeah. And I’m starting to see why. Maybe it’s because I have to be somewhat independent soon, and I keep hating the idea of struggling to make ends meet.” He admitted. “I’m thinking way down the line too... like when I settle down.” The last sentence caught me off guard. Jin talking about settling down sort of threw me off, because somehow, I knew that as a friend, it wouldn’t be me. And that sombre realization made me question why I felt upset at that.

“Do you even have someone you like, Jin?” I joked. “Out of the 2000 girls you’ve managed to sleep with this semester alone, of course.”

Jim chuckled, swatting my thigh.

“No, not really.” He sighed once again. “You know my ideal type for fucking around and settling down are different.” He then shifted to me, a different look in his eyes.

“You aren’t one to talk.” Jin said. “I know you’ve slept with a very consistent type - brown hair, slender legs, broad-shoulders...”

“I don’t have a consistent type-“ I argued but Jin cut me off.

“Then tell me what you look for in a guy you sleep with.” Jin challenged. I had actually never thought about how I chose the guy I slept with. I just ended up liking the vibe.

“You know I just go with the flow, and if I like it or if I’m down, I’ll just see what happens.” I tried avoiding the question but Jin wasn’t having it.

“C’mon, you know I’m not buying you bullshit. Quantify, qualify.” He egged me on, squeezing his hand on my knee. I thought about it for a while.

“He has to be funny.” I started.

“Okay, that’s pretty simple.” Jin remarked.

“...and has to be good-looking. By my standards.”

“Not like that’s the hardest thing in the world.” He earned a smack from me for that comment. Jin chuckled but let me continue.

“I think I do like broad shoulders, you’re right.” I admitted. He smirked at me, giving me a I-know-you look, adding, “And nice lips.”

“And well, he and I have to at least be able to have a proper conversation before we get down to fuck.” I said. “I don’t like mindless one-night-stands very much, so if I get a relationship or even a friendship out of it, I’d like that.”

Jin pondered over what I’d said for quite a long time, and I saw his expression change after thinking.

“What, do you have someone you’d like to recommend to me?” I said half-jokingly. Jin turned to me and tilted his head, as if he was biting on his words, unsure of whether to let them loose.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jin began, a lot of hesitation in his voice. It was extremely unlike him.

“Say it already, you’re killing me over here.” I said, a little uneasily.

“Sleep with me.” Jin finally said. My mind did a double-take. That was an understatement. It performed a whole circus acrobatic routine.

“Don’t mess with me.” I rolled my eyes, punching Jin on the shoulder.

“No, I mean it.” Jin said, with no humor in his eyes. “We both know what we like and don’t like. I literally fit all of your criteria. You fit all of mine-“

“No I don’t, you like girls like Seolhyun-“ I argued feebly.

“Have you looked at yourself, Y/N?” Jin asked. “You’re literally gorgeous. Like anyone in that room would have dropped dead to have a chance to fuck you.”

“Shut up, Jin, that’s not the least bit true. You’re saying that because you’re my friend...” I huffed, standing up. Jin followed suit. “...who is also trying to get me to sleep with him.” Jin grabs my wrist lightly to stop me from moving.

“I’m not saying that just because I want to sleep with you. Have you heard what your exes have had to say?” Jin began. “Even if they were salty you broke it off with them, they felt like they were below your league anyway.”

“Jin-“

“Sleep with me. We’re graduating, let’s just fuck it up one time before we’re off to the real world.” Jin almost pleaded. I sighed because I actually contemplated the idea. He did make sense - we had known about each others’ sexcapades all too well, the good and the bad. We were comfortable with each other and all... but we were friends. I hated the thought of that changing. I also felt like I hated the thought of him just wanting to sleep with me, and not place me under the category of ‘settling down’. Though, I’d never admit that to him, or myself at that moment.

“Jin I don’t want us to change. We’re good like that. We’re best friends now, I don’t want this to disappear and get awkward.” I sigh. Jin puts his hands on my shoulders.

“It won’t, it won’t, I promise.” He tried to reassure me. “You know I’m really good at making things not awkward. And we’re already so comfortable with each other, this won’t make a huge splash.”

There was silence for quite a while as I pondered, and that was probably the first unsettling silence we had shared between each other since the start of our friendship.

“Okay.”

Jin’s eyes lit up, and he smiled at my acceptance. I never really noticed until then that his smile was so fucking beautiful. He then pulled me in closer by the waist, knowing it turned me on.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” He murmured. In a matter of seconds, his lips press onto mine, a little hesitant at first, but it feels phenomenal. It was as if an invisible barrier around us had been shattered. Jin hungrily sought my lips now that he had a proper taste, gripping my neck, closing any sort of gap we had between us. We fall back onto the plush sofa, only intensifying whatever had transpired between us. I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders I admired so much. Jin cursed after a while, as he shifted and he brushed his growing erection under me. “Let’s get out of here.”

He held my hand tightly as we went back down to the party. Thankfully, nobody spotted the both of us as we quickly fled the scene. Jin revved up his car and drove off into the night with his hand on my thigh, squeezing it occasionally.

“Aren’t you going a little fast, Jin?” I add nervously as he breezes past blocks.

“Would you rather I fuck you into my backseat?” Jin asked, cocking an eyebrow, no humor in his eyes. The look meant he meant every word he said and that sent a tingle down my spine. I stayed silent as he rushed back to his apartment. Thank god he lived near Taehyung.

We had barely even made it past the front door before Jin’s lips had crashed onto mine again, pinning me to the living room wall. Jin had carried me, propping my legs to wrap around his waist, letting his hands unbutton my shirt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip, stopping to let his lips take over. He paused to slip my shirt off completely, taking in a breath as he saw my torso for the first time. I felt his teeth graze the side of my neck, and I had unintentionally let out a soft moan.

“Fuck, you’ll make me cum with those sounds.” Jin hissed, now moving with added urgency towards his bedroom. Throwing me down on his bed, he quickly removed his shirt as I shimmied my skirt down. Thank god I wore matching underwear that day, and the sight made Jin curse again.

“Take them off for me, Y/N.” Jin whispered as he kissed my lips softly. I smirk slightly, slowly pulling down my bra straps as he watched, his eyes gleaming. He licks his lips as I discard the last of my underwear and comes closer to me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Jin said, taking my breasts into his hands, kissing the swelled skin.

“Only you would compliment me just before we sleep together.” I joked, and he chuckles lightly before kissing marks onto my abdomen. His fingers trail downwards, slipping inside me with ease due to how damn turned on I was ever since he had asked me to sleep with him. Jin hissed, relishing the feeling of his fingers inside me. I bit my lips, stifling a moan but that only made him thrust his fingers deeper inside me.

“Don’t be quiet about it, Y/N, I know you’re loud in bed.” Jin says, smirking as I arch my back to feel him more. I let out a string of moans and pants as his pace inside me increased, adding on to his sinful lips leaving trails of its presence on my skin.

“Fuck me already, Jin.” I whined as his fingers soon weren’t enough to satisfy the burning inside me.

“Anything for you.” Jin chuckled, slipping his fingers out of me. He licked his fingers slowly, making me almost moan at how deliciously erotic it was.

“...but I want to hear you beg.” Jin growled, putting his thumb on my clit, circling it in a painfully slow manner. I hissed, gripping his hand.

“Please.” I cried as I bucked my hips, only to be met with nothing as he pulled his fingers away from me.

“Ask me nicely, Y/N.” Jin said, his tongue tracing an unknown pattern on my left breast, sucking it as I panted harder.

“Please Jin, I need you inside me, please...!” I cried out and Jin chuckled again, finally taking off his boxers. His slender fingers pumped his shaft slowly a few times before he teased my literally soaked core with his tip. I moaned from the contact, and gripped the sheets as he eased into me. Jin let out a loud moan as he filled me inch by inch.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” Jin growled, bottoming out inside me. His forehead rested on mine, as we both caught our breaths and slowly adjusted to the feeling. “I hope you’re ready to be fucked into oblivion.”

Jin’s thrusts started off a little slow. I had told him once before that it hurt so much because one of my exes just started thrusting without warning and I was so sore, having not even reached an orgasm due to the pain. Slowly, however, his thrusts seemed to quicken in pace as I tried to move in unison with him, wrapping my legs around his hips.

“Shit, I can feel you clenching around me.” Jin moaned, abs tensing as he rammed inside me. I arched my back in an attempt to feel even better, knowing it would probably hurt in the morning.

“Jin please I need... harder...!” My words came out jumbled and rather incoherent but Jin seemed to understand what I was saying, so he increased his pace once more, slamming himself into me at a relentless speed, harder and faster. His fingers snaked downwards, playing with my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep me swooning.

“You like that don’t you, baby, me touching you like that? I can feel you clench on me so fucking good.” Jin grunted as he planted rough kisses on my collarbones. “Keep clenching like that and I’m going to cum so hard.” That sent even more tension down to my abdomen. Suddenly, I held Jin’s chest, slowing his movements. He raised his brow in a slightly questioning manner.

“Let me ride you, Jin.” I panted, giving his plump lips a small kiss, which he deepened as he allowed me to adjust positions. “I know how much you love the view of this position.”

“You really know how to make a guy’s dick twitch.” Jin growled, pushing me down on him, making me gasp. “Fuck.”

I rolled my hips and slowly got used to the movement, and Jin leaned back against the pillows, letting me do whatever I pleased. His head was thrown back, the glistening sweat making his dark hair stick to his face slightly. His lips were ajar, slightly pinker due to the amount of kisses he had peppered my body with.

“Do you like that, Jin?” I asked, trying to increase my pace, feeling my orgasm build up quickly as soon as I found the right angle. “Do you like it when I bounce on your dick so well?”

“I fucking love it, please don’t stop.” Jin moaned, gripping my hips so roughly I knew they’d bruise the next day. “You know me so fucking well. You’re fucking me so good, baby, keep going.” His gruff words were doing wonders for my building climax.

“I want to see you cum on my dick, baby. I want to see your fucked out face when you make yourself cum using my dick.” Jin grunted, jerking his hips upwards to help me along with my journey to euphoria.

“Fuck, Jin, I’m gonna cum-“ my orgasm came earlier than expected. It was almost as if I was attacked by a whirlpool of psychedelic colors, white flashes consuming my field of vision. I cried out his name like a mantra as pleasure engulfed my nervous system and all my senses. He continued thrusting upward until I had motioned I wanted to climb off of him from oversensitivity. He already knew.

“May I have you in my mouth, Jin?” I whispered, taking his shaft, still coated in my orgasm, and pumping it a few times - hard. He let out a hiss as he nodded. I did my best to look as innocent as possible, knowing he did like when girls played innocent while doing the most obscene of acts.

“You can fuck my mouth, Jin.”

That was when he lost it. He was a moaning mess, thrusting between my lips, throwing his head back and gripping my hair lightly. I realized after a while that his hand on my head was to make sure he wasn’t too rough on me, and it made my chest clench slightly. Not long after, I felt his abs tense and he slowed his movements, unsure. I nodded at his hesitation, remembering how I had complained about a one night stand exploding inside my throat without any warning. Jin let out a long moan and a sigh as he climaxed into my mouth, holding my head steady by my cheeks. I let myself rest in his palms, swallowing his load.

“You know what that does to me, don’t you.” Jin licked his lips, unable to hide his smile as he came close to me, kissing me on the lips almost hesitantly.

We shared a few more kisses before Jin stood up to grab some towels to clean us up. I had never gotten cleaned up by anyone before in my life after sex, so this felt somewhat intimate.

“Are you staying the night?” Jin asked, tossing the towels into the laundry basket. He slipped on a loose pair of jogger pants and I put my underwear back on, not bothering with my bra. He passed me an old shirt and smiled as I put it on.

“Yeah, can I?” I asked, brushing my hair a little.

“Sure.” Jin replied simply, sitting down beside me on the bed. “You look good with my shirt on.” I scoffed, pulling the covers close and shifted till I was in a comfortable position. Jin laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist as both of us went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed and a text from Jin saying that he had someone to meet, so he’d left first, but I could use the shower or whatever I needed. After my bath, I’d gone to the kitchen to maybe get some milk but I saw that Jin had made some sandwiches for me. It was such an... intimate gesture, but I brushed it off, texting him thanks.

—

About three days later, I bumped into Jungkook at school. Or, well, more like he literally ran his entire body onto the locker beside mine, waiting for me to notice him.

“What the-“ I jumped at the sound of metal beside me, finally seeing Jungkook approach me after the loud bang.

“Y/N!” Jungkook panted dramatically. “You need to hear what I’m about to say.”

“What, did someone die? What’s with your drama-like entrance.” I laugh, stuffing my books into my locker. Closing it, I lean against my locker and waited for Jungkook to speak.

“Did Jin happen to say anything to you?” He paused and asked.

“Nope.”

“Oh man, I’m sure you’ll be annoyed too.” Jungkook scoffed. “Everyone knew except me and you.”

“Knew what?”

“That Jin and Rae are dating!” Jungkook exclaimed. He said it so loudly some other kids turned to look at him. I was a little too shocked to care. Shocked and honestly hella offended.

“Don’t fuck with me, Kook.” I hissed. “You better not be joking.”

“I wish I was.” Jungkook sighed. “They started dating like 4 or 5 days ago. They were talking before that too but I didn’t know they were actualy dating.”

4 or 5 days ago... that was definitely before we slept together that night. The rage in me bubbled and threatened to boil over. I was pissed beyond anything - partly because he didn’t even mention Rae to me and partly because I was the presumed side fuck.

“Where the heck is Jin now?” I grit my teeth and stood back up straight to face Jungkook.

“Aww man, you look mad, Y/N...” Jungkook said slightly cautiously. “Is it a good idea-“

“Where is he?” I demanded, shooting Jungkook a harsh glare, and he gave in. He told me Jin was with Hoseok at the garden study area. I immediately stormed over to where he was, not caring that Hoseok had shot me confused panicky glances.

“Kim Seokjin, we need to talk.” I huffed, folding my arms.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jin said casually, as if he had done nothing at all. Maybe in his mind he really didn’t think he did anything wrong to begin with, but I didn’t care - I was fuming.

“I need to talk to you alone.” I emphasized the need for Hoseok to go, or for Jin and I to leave to talk privately. Hoseok tried to get up to leave, but Jin sat him down.

“Let’s go to my car. I was about to head off anyway.” Jin said, packing up his things. We both walked in stony silence, with Jin shooting me worried glances from time to time. Once we got into his car, I exhaled sharply.

“Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jin asked, putting his hand on my knee, turning to face me. I move his hand off, folding my arms tightly, glaring at him.

“When were you going to tell me about Rae?” I snapped at him. Jin’s mouth opened a little, clearly not expecting that question.

“Oh fuck... um.” Jin stuttered uncharacteristically, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “I can explain.”

“Okay, so explain.” I hissed. “Explain how you started fucking with this girl, dating her, and you suddenly come crawling to me asking me to sleep with you, all this time not mentioning a single thing to me.” I got so mad I started to tear up, and it wasn’t because I was sad - I just was so frustrated for reasons I couldn’t place.

“Y/N...” Jin mumbled, clearly trying to make me less angry. He tried to hold my hand, but I swatted it away, stonily seething at him.

“Just try to fucking explain.” I growled.

“Okay okay okay.” Jin said softly, not trying to touch me anymore. “We started talking a month ago, and we kind of clicked. Like on a nice kind of level. And we did hook up, but it was once, and she kind of had a boyfriend at the time. She told me she’d break up with her boyfriend, because she really liked me, and I think I really like her too...”

“So while you were waiting, you come and fuck me?” I yelled.

“No that’s really not the case...” Jin scrambled for an answer and I could tell he was extremely distressed.

“That person you met the morning after we...” I trailed off.

“That was Rae.” Jin admitted softly. He knew I was seething and his apologetic admission didn’t make anything better.

“Wow, Jin.” I was now full on crying tears of anger, sadness and some other horrible emotion I couldn’t pinpoint. “I thought I meant more to you, seeing how we’ve been friends for 5 fucking years. I can’t even look at you right now.” I attempt to open the car door and leave but Jin locks the door.

“Don’t leave Y/N, please, I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront with you.” Jin grabs my wrist, turning me to face him again. “I’ve never really met any other girl that clicks with me as much as her... other than you, of course.” The tears come down even harder now, and I finally decide to break the barrier that I’d avoided for so long.

“Then why didn’t you choose me, Jin?” I ask. “You clicked with me. You and I were a thing first, Jin.” Now Jin looked even more guilty.

“Y/N...” Jin looked like he was sorry, like he was pitying me and I hated it. I yanked my hand out of his grip.

“I’m done. Don’t speak to me ever again.” I growled, manually unlocking the door and storming out of his car. As I walked away, I felt arms wrap around me tightly.

“Please, Y/N, I can’t lose you. I’m sorry, I fucked it all up, we shouldn’t have slept together-“ At his words, I turn around and slapped him in the face out of anger and disappointment. He held his cheek but didn’t protest, still trying to hold onto me.

“Sleeping together wasn’t the fucking mistake.” I growl. “It was me believing you thought of me as a friend. And I was naive enough to go along with it all these years. It was a mistake trusting you.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N...” He pleaded, and I could see he was sorry. But it didn’t matter. “You mean so much to me. I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m so sorry. Please, I can’t lose you.”

At that moment, I heard someone call Jin from behind him. It was her. Rae. She was an average student, and she looked decent, but she always felt off to me - never genuine enough.

“Oppa!” She called out, coming closer. “What’s going on?” Her fingers wrap around Jin’s arm. I yank my hand out of Jin’s frozen grasp.

“I’m talking to my friend, Rae-“ he began.

“No, he wasn’t. I’m not a friend.” I say harshly, walking off. The last thing I saw before I walked was Jin’s crestfallen face. I’d forget a lot of Jin and I’s memories but I’d never forget that face.

Graduation came fast and everything was just a blur of me moving through classes, eating, sleeping, repeat. It was the same routine every day, I refused to meet Jin and I’s mutual friends for fear he’s try to talk to me. I’d changed my number because he kept calling. I hardly returned to my dorm because Jin came occasionally, asking me to open the door and talk. I shut myself off as much as possible from Jin. After a while, I think he got the message, so he stopped trying too.

—

Fast-track 5 years, I lift my head up to see the one face that had haunted my thoughts for the first time in forever. It was 3.38PM on a Thursday, and the cafe was quiet, only the sound of slow piano music in the background. Not even my breathing because I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing the moment I heard his voice.

“It’s been a while.” Jin chuckles nervously and softly, the sound not fully registering as real in my head. The crinkle of plastic he was holding brought me back to reality. He was holding a pack of cookies in his hand.

“Ah, those-“ I said quickly, trying to be normal.

“Yeah, I uh, wanna get these.” Jin cleared his throat, putting the cookies on the counter. “And an iced americano please, I’ll be having it here.”

“That’ll be seven dollars.”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, please have a seat and I’ll serve you shortly.”

Jin turns his back on me, walking to a convenient table and put down his work bag. He takes out a laptop and starts typing away as I prepare his coffee. My mind is in a whirl as I tried to process my current reality. I muttered a soft prayer to keep my shit together until he left.

“Here are your cookies and one ice americano, enjoy.” I say almost robotically. Jin looks up at me with a small wistful look.

“It’s rather quiet, would you come sit with me and catch up for old times’ sake?” He requested bravely. I saw his fingers twitch, a sign that he was nervous. After a short hesitation, I nodded slowly and he immediately stood up, removing his things from the chair opposite him.

“Please.” He gestured to the chair. It was painfully formal. I took my seat and removed my apron, putting it on the chair backing.

“How long has the cafe been open? It’s your own cafe, right?” Jin began.

“Yeah, it’s mine.” I say rather proudly. It took me 3 years to set it up, with my parents’ help of course, but I’d paid off the loans I’d gotten from them recently so it really truly was mine now. “I’ve been open for almost two years now.”

“Business is good I presume.” Jin said, smiling slightly. His smile was something I never even knew I missed, but a part of me softened as I saw the corners of his lips turn up as he bit into a chocolate cookie. I remembered he liked the ones I made one time at his place.

“The cookies are delicious, just like before-“ Jin said, but he caught himself before he said anything to make the conversation even more awkward.

“Yeah, I’m quite proud of my bakes.” I said softly, feeling quite stiff, so I crossed my legs, hoping to feel less awkward. I figured I should make some sort of conversation.

“What are you doing now?” I asked. “I never found out whether you got into finance or not.” Deep down, I knew he’d probably have gone with what his parents wanted. I had always told him the restaurant dream was something he could always go to if he didn’t have the balls to go against his parents earlier in life.

“I’m a consultant for gourmet restaurants.” Jin said simply.

“Wow.” I said, genuinely surprised. “That sounds like fun.”

“I do like my job, actually. At least I’m putting my degree to good use.” Jin chuckles softly again. His eyes flicker over my appearance, resting on my hand suddenly.

“Oh, you’re...” His voice trailed off and I look down at my fingers in confusion when I realized I was wearing the ring my parents gave to me recently for my birthday. It wasn’t a flashy ring but I kept it on so I wouldn’t get hit on by random office workers when I worked at the cafe.

“Oh, no no, I’m not-“ I stumbled over my words. “I’m not married, this is a birthday gift from my parents. It just... keeps the creeps away.” There was a short silence before Jin exhaled a little sharper than before. It sounded like... relief. “I didn’t have time to date since college.”

“Ah, sorry, I just assumed-“ He began, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, that’s the intended effect, it’s okay.” I reassured him, not wanting this conversation to become even more awkward than it already was.

“How about you? You ‘settled down’ yet?” I try to lighten the air with a small nervous chuckle. Jin’s face falls a bit but I could tell he was trying not to make things too awkward too.

“I actually got divorced a year ago.” He said, sighing a little but breaking into an awkward chuckle. “So, no, I guess you can say I’m not settled down just yet.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to-“ I panicked at the new information. Jin had gotten married, and recently (not really recently) got a divorce. It was a lot to process.

“No, it’s okay, it’s all in the past. I’ve come to terms with it.” Jin said simply, smiling at me and taking another bite of a cookie.

“If you don’t mind, can I ask what happened?” I ventured rather bravely into the unknown quicksand that was this conversation. I felt like in an hour or two, I’d probably never see Jin again anyway, so I might as well find out a little more.

“No, I don’t mind.” Jin said, smiling a little. “I’m glad you want to know more about me now.” I look down, and am very sure I blushed slightly.

“I got married to Rae a year after graduation, quite fast if I had to say so myself. But I really thought she was the one. I’d just started out on my consulting career and I had to work quite a number of late nights and she and I started to argue a lot more about my working hours. Rae worked at her father’s company so she had a lot of free time, so she kept complaining about me not spending enough time with her.”

“Ah, she didn’t understand...” I remarked casually and Jin nodded.

“She was really unhappy and every time I’d come home, she’d be drunk off some expensive red wine. She would drunkenly berate me for loving my job more than her and that she regretted breaking up with her boyfriend for me.”

I scowled. I really never liked that girl. “That’s horrible.” I frowned.

“It’s okay, I guess it was my fault too that I was so busy. I was really happy one day though; I finally got a promotion. It was for my current position now, which is regional manager. I came home to her already asleep on the bed, so I didn’t tell her about the promotion. Then her phone started ringing. I never looked into her phone or her things, mostly because I never had the time, but I trusted her.”

I gulped a little, kind of guessing where the story was going.

“I saw the caller ID by accident, and the caller was named ‘Sexy Oppa’. Feeling a little off, I picked it up, and the person on the phone asked Rae if she was free tonight after I fell asleep, and that he missed her in his bed.”

I shook my head, biting my lip.

“I’m so sorry, Jin.” I said softly. I saw a flash of pain flit over his calm expression, knowing this would have been a huge hit to not only his ego, but his hidden romantic heart. Deep down, he believed in marrying one person for life, and to have that dream shattered would have been devastating for him.

“No, I... I’m okay.” He said, trying to smile. “Deep down... I think I knew. I just didn’t want to face it.”

“I divorced her 8 months ago, even though she didn’t want to.” Jin said, leaning back in his chair. “I guess, that was my life so far. Just a mistake.”

“Don’t say that.” I said sharply. “Don’t say your life was a mistake, just because some chick didn’t understand you wanting to chase your goals.” His eyes lit up at my words.

“You...” He chuckled again, this time without the nervousness. “Always say the right things.” I follow his chuckle as well, sitting there with him in one of the most comfortable silences we’ve shared in half a decade; for a few seconds at least.

“I know it’s really forward, but...” Jin started. “Let’s catch up over dinner. I think I owe you at least that much.”

“Jin, you don’t owe me - or anyone - anything.” I shook my head. “I hope you know that.”

“Regardless, I’d like to talk more over dinner. Reconnect, you know. It’s been five years. And I-“ Jin said, stopping, hesitating, then suddenly mustered up his confidence.

“I’ve missed you all these years, Y/N. Every single day.” He said, now without any signs of nervousness. He meant it. I hesitated, but I knew this was the last chance I got to quell my blurry nightmares that were my memories.

“I... missed you too, Jin.” I said softly, looking down at my fingers now.

“Let me bring you for dinner tomorrow night?” Jin suggested. I nodded, and we exchanged our new numbers. I noticed Jin’s pause as he stared at my number on his phone.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing, I just... I’m happy.” He said, smiling genuinely at me. My heart swelled almost painfully, because I knew I felt the same.

“...Same here, Jin. Same here.” I murmur.

“Thanks for giving me a chance, Y/N.” Jin said, finishing his americano and standing up. I followed, standing too.

“Thanks for... coming here.” I stammered, not really knowing what to say. Jin smiled again, then we shared another few seconds of us just staring at each other, not really registering this was real.Then, Jin pulls me into his arms and hugs me. As I inhaled from the surprise, I smelled his fresh cotton scent with a hint of orange. He was warm, and he was exactly the same as he was all those years back. Like nothing had changed. I was about to hug Jin back when he pulled away slowly.

“It was nice seeing you, Y/N. I’ll call you about tomorrow.”

—

The next day, Jin told me to text me my address and that he’d pick me up at 7. My head felt a little giddy like I was getting ready for a first date. I paused. It kind of was a first date. Jin and I never really ate alone together out at a nice place. The most we’d ever done was just grab some takeout and camp with Hoseok and Jungkook at someone’s place. Sometimes he’d eat over at my place but he would be coming from late classes or after-dinner hookups, and I’d already eaten, so he settled for sharing some ramen.

For the 5 years, I never really dated anyone either. I did go out to dinner with some of my friends’ recommendations but they never made it past the first or the very rare second date. It never really felt right. I put on a simple black dress and a nice pair of gold earrings and black short heels. And a cardigan in case I got cold - and to be honest I didn’t even know where we were headed. I just liked the idea of eating out with Jin, because we hadn’t done so in so long. Or ever.

He was punctual, and at 7, I heard a car pull up near my sidewalk. I spritzed on some perfume and left the house.

“You look great, Y/N.” Jin said warmly as he got out of the car to open the passenger side door. He was dressed in a grey suit and a plain white shirt underneath. It was so casual but also pretty dressed up. It matched his now light-brown hair perfectly.

“You too, Jin.” I smiled and he took my hand, leading me inside his car. Once we were inside, we set off, with me asking him where we were headed.

“I hope you still like pasta. I booked a nice Italian place by the river.” He chuckled in reply.

At a stop light, he gestured to the backseat, and when I turned around, I saw a small bouquet of white baby’s breath, wrapped in brown kraft paper, and tied with rustic string and a soft pink ribbon.

“Seemed fitting, so I got you some of your favourite flowers too.” Jin said.

“Thank you...” I murmured, admiring how thoughtful he was being. I wasn’t used to it at all. “And thanks for remembering all that. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, don’t worry.” Jin said, putting his hand on my knee softly.

When we got to the riverside, I gawked at the natural beauty of the restaurant’s rustic outdoor setting. There were wooden tables and chairs, lit up by an endless string of fairy lights. The scent in the air smelled of pasta mixed with the freshness of the river. The sound of the small waves crashing served as a background to the soft chatter of the restaurant.

“This place is... wow.” I told Jin when we were seated.

“Yeah, I’d seen reviews on social media a few months back. Thought to give it a go, but it’d be sad to come alone with no one to appreciate it with.” He said a little wistfully.

“Well, here we are.” I said lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. The waiter came with the menus and water.

“Did you see what’s good here?” I asked Jin, rifling through the menu. Everything seemed pretty amazing and but it was quite expensive and I wondered if we were splitting the bill.

“I heard the pesto is good. I’m getting a seafood marinara.” Jin said, smiling. “And if you’re worried about the price, don’t. I’ll get the bill, okay?”

“Jin, no, it’s expensive and you got me flowers and-“ I protested. But Jin touched the top of my hand.

“I really want to, okay? Don’t worry about it.” Jin smiled at me reassuringly. “If you feel so bad, you can bake something nice just for me at the cafe.”

I stared at Jin incredulously but sighed in defeat, nodding. We both ordered our food and during the wait we fell into a rather pleasantly comfortable conversation. We talked about his work, his best and worst clients, some were downright nasty but most of them were grateful that Jin had come along. He seemed to be good at his job, and he seemed to enjoy it too, which was the most important. I told him about the cafe, and how business was good, and I was so lucky to have gotten the cafe spot after pitting myself against a pack of desperate entrepreneurs. I had even laughed at some jokes he cracked. It felt so natural.

“Ah, our food is here!” He said excitedly. The pasta looked amazing and tasted exactly how I expected it to, perhaps even better.

“It’s been a really long while since I’ve taken time to just enjoy a nice dinner like that.” I mused, eating another spoonful of my pesto pasta. “Thanks for dinner, Jin.”

“Anytime, really. I’m so glad we can just go back to being...” Jin hesitated a bit, then continued, “like this.” Not wanting to spoil the atmosphere, I didn’t comment on the pause. I just enjoyed the meal and the scenery surrounding the both of us.

After dinner, Jin had driven me home. He had to park a little further because all the lots had filled up nearer to my house. I told him to drop me off, but he insisted on walking me back, flowers in hand.

“Tonight was really nice, Y/N, thank you-“ Jin began, but was cut off by a flash of lightning and thunder, jolting us back to reality. In a matter of moments, we could feel the rain pelting down on us.

“Ah, shit-“ both of us cursed and made a dash for my house for shelter.

“Ah, Y/N, can I-“ Jin hesitated, not stepping in my house just yet.

“I’m not making you stand out there in the rain, please get inside.” I insisted, holding his arm and pulling him past the doors. Jin’s hair had gotten soaked from the rain, turning a little darker. His white shirt and grey suit had also suffered from the sudden downpour.

“I’ll get you something to change into.” I said quickly. “You can just sit on the couch, it’s fine.”

Jin hesitated but sat down anyway, removing his blazer and setting it on a chair along with the flowers. Emerging from my room, I gave him an oversized shirt and some baggy shorts.

“You can wait for your clothes to dry while wearing these.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” He said, smiling again. “I’ll use your bathroom to freshen up if you don’t mind.”

I shook my head, grabbing a drink of water before going back into my room to change. By pure habit, I forgot to lock the door as I was changing and suddenly, whilst my I was only clad in my underwear, Jin knocked, opening the door and calling my name then freezing completely as he registered my half naked form.

“Oh Y/N.” Jin gulped a little. “I’m so sorry-”

“I mean, it’s not like you haven’t seen everything already, it’s fine.” I said, trying to laugh it off, quickly putting on my shirt and shorts. Jin sort of just stood rooted to where he was behind the door.

“You called for me?” I asked, bringing my hair into a loose ponytail.

“Ah, I was going to ask you if you had any a kettle for warm water. Or a dispenser.” He said nervously, most likely still affected by what had just happened.

“Yeah, of course, give me a mome-“ I said, stepping past his seemingly frozen figure but I was stopped by a strong grip on my waist.

“Y/N.” Jin said, his voice now deeper but full of hesitation. “I-” I knew where it was going.

“If you want to sleep with me, Jin-” I was interrupted by his lips meeting mine. It was surprisingly gentle. It was soft, slow and warm. I could smell him and I felt his arms pull me closer to him. But I snapped out of that little dreamt moment fast, pulling myself away from him.

“Jin-” I began, but Jin spoke first.

“I didn’t just divorce Rae because she cheated. I could have stayed. I could have done things to make it up to her. I could have forgiven her.” Jin said, rambling. “But I didn’t want to stay with her. Did you know why?”

I didn’t answer. I merely stared at Jin with a slightly shocked look.

“Because I couldn’t get your damn words out of my head.” He said, running his fingers through his semi-wet hair in frustration. “Why didn’t I choose you? Yeah, why didn’t I? I’d thought about this for so fucking long. I think deep down I knew I liked you. I loved you. I convinced myself for ages it was platonic, like how a brother loved his younger sister. That night at Taehyung’s party, when those drunkards hit on you, I was convinced my annoyance came from my need to protect you in a sibling kind of way. But now I know it was just jealousy that ate away at me. I think I knew from the moment you said yes to sleeping with me. I didn’t have the balls to just fucking admit it, and I fucked it all up.”

“Seokjin...“ I murmured, not really knowing what to say.

“I thought the feeling would go away because I thought I genuinely loved Rae. In some ways, I did. I loved how she made me feel, how I could forget about you for moments when I’m with her, but you’d always come back to my mind. It was always you, Y/N.” Jin whispered the last sentence to me, holding my face in his hand. He was so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks.

“I asked our friends, seeing if anyone had even heard a whisper from you since graduation.” Jin explained. “I asked everyone. It was really only two weeks ago that one of Jungkook’s old pals had stumbled upon your cafe due to its good reviews and he had told me he saw you. I did some digging and realized the cafe was yours.”

“Digging?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I asked my consultant connections.” He said, lips turning up a little. “I finally found you, after like a whole 6 months. But I really didn’t have the courage to go in. I passed by so many times, catching glimpses of you working your ass off with only 3 other part timers.” Jin had a wistful look on his face, his hands now holding mine tightly.

“I was scared that you wouldn’t want to see me. That you still hated me for fucking everything up 5 years ago. That you’d be happy and married and... happy with someone else.” He said, voice breaking slightly at his last sentence. “My heart really sank and dropped out of my ass when I thought your ring meant you were married.”

My breath was trembling from the weight of all the emotions that flooded my being. It was so much to process. After 5 years of me running away from my own truth, it slapped me on the face that night. And that truth was that this whole time, I only had space for Jin in my heart. That was why all the dates didn’t work. That was why I never bothered to look for him because I was so hurt.

“It was always you, Jin.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “It was always you. And I never admitted it, but I loved you. I hated the fact that you chose Rae over me. I hated that you hid it from me. I hated how I loved the way you had touched me and made me feel that night, only to find out you thought it was a mistake.” The words wouldn’t stop coming and the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I started raising my voice at Jin, all my pent up anger and disappointment for 5 years finally unleashing.

Jin could only take whatever I was saying, never letting go of my hand.

“I hated how you didn’t even consider settling down with me. I hated how you didn’t even come after me that day. I hated how you stopped trying after a while. I hated how you took 5 fucking years to come tell me this.” I cried, hitting his chest. “I hate that even after all this time, yesterday, today, tomorrow, it’ll always be you.”

With that, Jin took my lips as his once again. This kiss was gentle too, warmth enveloping me like a blanket. I had no idea how long we stood in our spots, just letting our lips show each other how much we had missed each other. We had so much hesitation in the start, but slowly, it grew more heated. Jin’s thumb pressed my chin down slightly, making my lips part so his tongue could sneak inside. Jin pushed me against my dining table, making me sit on it and wrap my legs around his hips as he deepened the kiss.

“I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.” He murmured against his kisses. “You have no idea.”

“You don’t have any idea how much I’ve thought about you, Kim Seokjin.” I whispered, tugging at his shirt. “So much.”

“Are you okay with this...” Jin hesitated, pausing all his movements. “The last time we did this, it ended up with us not talking for half a decade.”

“As long as you aren’t seeing any girls I don’t know about, I really doubt we’re going to repeat what happened.” I said, pulling him closer to kiss me again. He relaxed, taking that as a yes, and took off his shirt. I took a few moments to marvel at his physique that had barely changed. If anything, he looked better than ever, sculpted and toned. His skin was lighter than I remembered.

��I think I want to have a chance to admire you too.” Jin whispered, slipping his nimble hands under my shirt, taking it off me. He let out a sharp breath, continuing with the removal of my shorts too.

“I shouldn’t have even put them on.” I muttered, using my legs to tug Jin’s hips so he’d be flush against me. He grunted at the friction it caused to the growing tent under the shorts.

“I want you so badly, I really might not last long if we do it-“ Jin said nervously.

“Honestly, same, so please just fuck me already, Jin.” I told him blatantly. Jin let out a half moan at my words, lifting me into his arms and put me down on my bed.

“Let’s see what I’ve been missing.” He mumbled as he planted soft kisses on my inner thighs. I whimpered at the warm pecks, whining as they got nearer to where I knew I was already ready for him.

“You’re so wet, fuck...” Jin cursed as he removed my underwear. His fingers run the length of my slit, collecting some of my arousal. He licked his fingers, not breaking eye contact with me and I stifled a moan from how fucking hot it looked.

“You taste just like before - so damn delicious.” He moaned, pressing his tongue on my clit. I couldn’t help but buck my hips upwards, but his hands kept me down. I whimpered for more. Jin quietly complied, letting his tongue roam the expanse of my sex, toying with my clit, just knowing it drove me insane.

“Please, Jin, I need you inside me. Please...” I begged, tugging his hair a little.

“Anything for you.” He whispered, his breath tingling my core. Jin stripped his shorts off, revealing his member, already leaking and extra hard. He had scurried off, quickly grabbing a condom and put it on in a flash.

“I’d ask you to suck me off first but I really don’t think I’d last that long.” Jin muttered, pumping himself a few times before teasing my entrance. I moaned, pushing my hips against him, engulfing his tip slightly. He groaned at my unexpected movement, pushing all the way inside. I threw my head back, feeling the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Fuck, I could cum right now.” Jin hissed, slowly moving to let me adjust. I soon grew impatient again and moved my hips, signalling for him to move. Jin’s pace was slow but he hit me hard in places I forgot I had. His hips had my vision blurred from pure ecstasy.

“Jin, you’re going to make me cum so hard like that.” I moaned, pulling his hips with my legs. He quickened his pace as I clenched around him harder and harder. “Oh god-“ I was cut off as Jin placed his lips to mine again - a gesture so intimate to me.

“Fuck-“ Jin moaned as he continued to thrust into me, his pace now unrelenting and I knew he was as greedy for release as I was.

“Let me ride you, Jin, please.” I said, pushing myself off the bed to top him. Jin nodded, sitting up as I straddled him. Repositioning him inside me, I rolled my hips quickly, making Jin close his eyes. His hands gripped me harder as our movements went faster and faster.

“I’m cumming, Jin-“ I cried, letting my orgasm take over. Jin’s hips started thrusting upwards, his lips sucked on my neck and his hands enveloped my breasts as he helped me ride out my orgasm. “Ah, ah- Jin, ah- fuck...!” My cries were drowned out by his lips on mine once again.

“I’m so close, Y/N, I’m so close to cumming because you’e clenching me so fucking hard now.” He grunted, his hips not letting up until he pushed himself over the edge. I kept rolling my hips, making sure he came just as hard as I did. His head was thrown back and his sweat rolled down in small beads as he reached his high.

“I can’t believe this is real.” He said, chuckling softly, resting his forehead on my shoulder. After a few moments, he gently moved me so that he could pull out of me. Jin discarded the condom swiftly and neatly, then came back to join me on the bed. I’d gone to get warm wet towels to clean ourselves up and he thanked me with a kiss. He pulled me into a tight embrace, and I smiled - genuinely for the first time in so long.

“Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and till we get wrenched apart by wolves or zombies when the apocalypse strikes... it’ll still be you.” Jin mimicked my words from just now, kissing my hair softly.

I do have that one person whose memories in our past had faded to mere flashes of discomfort. And that person was Jin. But that was okay with me because now, we were going to make new memories. Together.

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