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thinkingoutlouddblog · 3 years

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butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

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hey-there-juliet · 3 years

Text

• JATP Sci-Fi Week - Day Six: Superheroes @jatp-sci-fi-week

Notes: Yes, I'm a day late, I'm sorry!! I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do for this day, and even though I have two superheroes fanfics, neither one is developed enough for me to post anything.

So I've decided to share a sneak peek of one of the mentioned superhero fics and I hope you guys like it. The moodboard is specifically aimed at the sneak peek instead of something for the whole fic in general.

This is unbetaed, so any mistakes are my own. It's also kinda crappy, but oh well, lmao. Enjoy!! 💜

Summary: Seven superpowered youths are chosen to be trained as the next team of superheroes to protect the world. What they don't know is that General Covington has a very serious reason to want them whipped into shape. Too bad for him, though, their trainer - Trevor Wilson - doesn't seem interested in following the rules. (Inspired by Zoom: Academy of Superhero, a 2006 film).

content warning: jerk jock alert, along with a little bullying, but Luke sets him right. Light swearing.

• just your average, ordinary, everyday superhero •

SNEAK PEEK:

Another school day had finally come to an end, and Luke could hardly wait to get back to his guitar and finally be able to try out the melody that had been plaguing him all day.

The doors were just around the corner, and he could almost picture them, the freedom just beyond, tugging him forward.

"I was like a super spy or something, and there was this big, underground lab and I had an evil twin!" Reggie was saying, his hands moving around excitedly as he told Luke and Alex about his dream from the night before.

He was walking backwards, a terrible habit that Alex tried to discourage as Luke egged him on, making sure to steer him away from classmates and objects alike. But he was too caught up in his friend's story to notice the guy leaning against the lockers just around the corner.

Reggie's enthusiastic steps carried him straight into Shane Donovan's back, sending the ginger football player flying into his friends and all three of them to the floor a couple of feet farther into the hallway. Reggie, in turn, barely stumbled, more out of shock than anything else. He turned around, eyes wide and apologies already spilling profusely from his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke could see Alex was thinking the same thing as him: Shit.

Donovan jumped to his feet a moment later, red coloring his cheeks and ears, possibly in embarrassment but most likely in anger. He turned around and marched toward Reggie.

Luke was quick to step in front of his friend though, hands raised in a hopeless attempt of settling things down without him ending up in detention. Again.

"Hey, man," Luke forced a laugh, fixing the other boy with his most charming smile. "So sorry about that, totally my bad."

"Shut up, Patterson. I know it was your stupid, freak friend."

His smile slipped off his face as Luke pulled his shoulders back. Donovan was still a foot taller than him, but all of his bulk meant nothing when Luke could take him down with a well placed thought.

"Come on, now, man. It was an accident." He could see it in Shane's face that he was not in a rational mood though, so Luke resigned himself to another day of detention and another weekend grounded at home.

"No." Donovan pushed against his chest, but Luke was ready for it and only stumbled back a step. Someone pushed him back to rights immediately, and with a quick glance at the almost empty space behind him, he knew it had been Alex. Reggie stood a couple of feet away, hands wriggling in anxious worry, glassy eyes watching Shane's increasingly red face with intent focus.

Luke hated that look on his friend's face. Hated it. His fists closed. He could hear the lockers start to rattle slightly.

"You and your freak friends shouldn't even be here," Donovan spit out, leaning his face closer to his. Then his eyes shifted behind him and Luke clenched his jaw, fists shaking with the effort it took to hold himself back. "What's wrong, Peters? Too chicken to stand up for yourself? Aw, poor weak, little baby, are you going to cry?" Shane's face twisted into a mocking pout. The lockers in the hallway shook harder, but he didn't seem to notice.

To say Luke was fuming would be an understatement.

"I- I'm sorry, dude. It- It was totally an accident," Reggie stumbled through his apology, wide eyes unable to stay in one place for long.

"I- I- I-" Shane mocked, sidestepping Luke to move closer to Reggie. "This is a school for normal people, freak!"

That's it, Luke thought as he reached for the back of Shane's letterman jacket. At the same time, the lockers all around them burst open and folded into themselves with a deafening sound of metal on metal.

People screamed and ran for the doors, but Luke didn't pay them any mind. Instead, he pulled Shane away from Reggie and slammed him against a very crooked locker. "That's enough!"

To be continued... some day.

___

tag list: @williexmercer @sunsetcurbed @angelofarts @emeraldrain55 @burntchromas @itsthebooks @flynn-taylor @kybee1497 @jatpfs

#jatp sci fi week #jatp sci fi week superheroes #julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #trevor wilson #Julie Molina #sunset curve #mine #juke #protective luke #fic recs #jatpfs #jatp fic AU

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cptnbvcks · 5 years

Note

Honestly ANY goofy prompt with Javier

dripping (javier peña x reader)

words: 5.5k

prompt: goofy — with food

summary: javi brings you something to take the edge off during one of colombia’s heatwaves

warnings: smut smut smut, sticky situations (literally)

a/n: this was too long for any kind of drabble and i hate myself for it and this was significantly prompted by my childish urge for snow cones mid-february. this is also half unedited filth lmao sorry

You always thought that Miami was hot during the summer, but Colombian summers felt like the devil himself had turned on the fucking broiler and left the entire goddamn city of Bogota to roast.

Every window of your apartment was pushed open, beckoning any hopeful gust of damp breeze to uselessly relieve the drowning humidity that was swelling within the cramped one bedroom home. If you could have stuck your head through the burglar-proof bars and hung half your body out onto the street, that’s probably how Javier would have found you when he slid the spare key into your front door and let himself in.

Instead, Javi found you half-sprawled on the living room floor, dressed in nothing but a pair of cotton shorts and a thin tank top with your legs stretched out languidly across the cool tile. A half melted cup of ice lingered in a pool of condensation as you sat in front of a struggling electric fan while also clutching another hand-held woven fan that you had obtained as a wedding favour from some distant older cousin on your mother’s side of the family.

You only opened one eye to peer up at him as he entered your field of view.

Javi chuckled at the sight.

“News says the heatwave’s not supposed to let up until Monday,” Javi informed with a playful tease to his voice, as you closed your eyes to groan pathetically, “But, I brought something that might take the edge off.”

When you opened your eyes again, Javi was lowering himself to a squat infront you. Your eyes drifted from his amused eyes to his out stretched hands, both of which held a small styrofoam cup filled to the brim with a sad looking dome of syrup covered and half-melted shaved ice.

“Snow cones?” You snort humorously, a smile quickly spreading across your face at the sweet gesture. You grabbed the cone doused in red syrup, swapping the cup from one hand to the other as you noticed the mess the melted ice was making around its container. Javi’s hands were covered in it. “I haven’t had these for years. Are they from—?”

“The vendor across from Maria’s, yeah. You should have seen the line of kids. I’ve seen smaller mobs at election campaigns,” he said, lifting his messy hand to his mouth to mindlessly clean off the sticky syrup residue. He let himself fall back heavily on the floor across from you, his back propped up by the island cabinets and legs splayed on either side of yours, “I was on my way over and I saw that he was out today — thought of you.”

Your eyes followed his motion of his tongue, dragging thoughtless motions over the webbing of his fingers as he drew back to speak. A bead of sweat marked its way across the side of your temple, its path mimicked by the trickling ice running over the cup’s rim and collecting around your overheated hand. You blink back to attention as his throw-away words drag your heat-weighted brain to attention.

A smile as lazy as the heat teased at your mouth as you brought the cup to your mouth, using your lips and tongue to scoop into the side of the dwindling dome of shaved ice. You hum around the treat, eyes glistening mischievously as you watched him sip at the edge of his cup. “You thinking about me, Javi?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he grunted back, his brow furrowed with small focus as he looked from the snow cone to you. His eyes lowered to your mouth when you purposefully ran a pink-dyed tongue over your lips.

You hummed an affirmation under your breath as you tapped your bare foot into the inner portion of his thigh to watch him jump at the contact. Javier circled his free hand around your ankle, squeezing in small warning to behave.

A drop of watery syrup hit the top of your foot as the calloused pad of his thumb rubbed a broad circle against your skin.

“Mmm, too late.”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between the two of you, eyes locked on one another from across the narrow space between the kitchen counter and the island. Javier’s fingers stroke mindless patterns around the prominent bone of your ankle as you watch him manoeuvre around the snow cone, quietly noticing the way his baby blue shirt clung damply to his chest in spite of the first few buttons being undone.

Your eyes follow a small bead of sweat across the tendons of his neck, watching as it soaked into the collar of his shirt.

The snow cones didn’t stand a chance in this heat.

“You’re dripping,” Javier pointed out, the drag of his voice drawing your thoughts sluggishly back to attention. You raise a brow as he lifts his half-melted cup, raising a finger around it to point at your chest.

Tipping your chin, you notice the raspberry syrup stains that sprawled in messy drips over the front of your camisole. You laugh, because you know where your attention had been, and it hadn’t been on the cup of melting ice and liquid sugar.

“Oops.”

The word drops coyly from your lips, molasses thick and just as sweet.

Javier’s fingers twitch on your foot and his eyes don’t move any higher than the swell of your breasts, or the sheer top that no longer escapes his attention.

Your eyes are on him again when you tilt the styrofoam just a little more.

Another drop of syrup and ice falls. This time, it lands on skin.

Javier grips you beneath your shin and inhales lowly as your nipples visibly harden at the cold trail the spill leaves behind on its path down your cleavage. It’s icy cold even at its melting point but it does nothing to quell the wet heat that clings to your skin.

“Mala,” Javier breathes, the word dragging through the haze of the room. Bad.

You tap your foot against his thigh again, but this time you twist the appendage out of his grip with a quick roll and hook your leg over his thigh. Javier’s eyes don’t miss the not-so-subtle parting of your thighs as you scoot forward, both legs spreading and coming to a bend on either side of his hips until you sat squarely between his thighs. Your head tilted forward, tempting to bridge the small gap that existed between your faces.

At this distance you could see the speckling of sweat that peppered the length of his neck. You licked your lips and suppressed the urge to taste his skin.

Not yet.

There was pleasure in the denial, in the oppressing swelter. So you told yourself — not yet.

“Yeah?” You purred, watching the way he worked his jaw in small resistance.

Javier could feel the warmth radiating from you — sauna hot and hotter still in that sinful space between your clothed cunt and his crotch. Trying not to smirk, you purposefully shift onto your knees, straddling him as you set one hand on his shoulder as stretch your torso up and set your cup onto the counter behind him. The movement centring your tits right up to his face, close enough that you feel his breaths fan out warmly across your sternum.

“Maybe I’m just trying to cool down, Javi. You gonna blame a girl for trying not to overheat in this weather?”

“Is this your idea of cooling down? Putting your tits in my face?” Javi asked, the words hushed as he followed the impulse to lean forward, his mouth opening and his tongue pressing a searing swipe along the remnant trail of syrup.

Sweet and salty and so fucking soft when he drags his free hand up along the back of your thigh, squeezing for the sake of feeling the plush give of your flesh in his sticky hands. He goes for the straps of the camisole next, his manners non-existent when he yanks the thin strap down your arm and digs his fingers into the neckline of the stretchy polyester to expose your left breast to the humid air.

You laughed at his impatience, one hand dropping to cup the back of his head and card through the damp strands that clung to the base of his neck.

“Something like it,” you say, the words sighing on the edge of your laughter as you hold his head to your chest, a soft noise muffling itself behind your lips as he sucks a raspberry hued bruise into the top of your breast.

His mouth is cold and it sends a deep shudder along the valley of your spine that clenches vice-tight between your thighs. You know that you could get off on this alone, with his mouth bruising your breasts in red and blue patches — hell, he’s made you do it before (much to your own surprise).

“You taste so good, baby,” he murmurs, his teeth catching flesh and pulling a weak noise from your throat as he circles his free hand around your lower back, pressing your thighs harder into his torso while you remain poised taller on your knees. You don’t miss the way he sneaks a finger against the crotch of your shorts when he grabs your thigh from behind. “Come here.”

You grunt a response as you sink your hips back down into his lap before he can finish his path to your nipple. The edge of the styrofoam cup bumps your thigh as Javier mindlessly grabs for your waist, having forgotten the melted treat entirely from the minute you parted your legs to taunt him.

The cup tilts in his distracted grip, allowing the remainder of the dwindling ice hill to slosh out and land with a wet splat on your bare thigh. The shock of the temperature earns a startled shout that makes Javier laugh deep in his chest.

“Javi!”

“You’re making a mess, mina,” Javier taunts, mouth against your throat and a chiding pique to his voice that almost sounded like tutting. The spill runs berry pink streams over the flesh of your thigh, rivulets of its melt curving a slow descent to your inner thigh.

“I’m making a mess?”

“Yes.”

He punctuates the syllable with a soft growl as you begin to lean away from his prying mouth, forcing his lips to chase you as you arch out of his reach. You allow him the distraction of the chase, stealing the now half-empty cup from his hand before he eagerly uses his new found freedom to grip at your thigh.

His hands smears across the mess he made, spreading it across your skin when he reaches for your half-exposed breasts to finish tearing down the other side of your shirt.

Javier cups his hands under your breasts, pressing into your ribcage as he squeezes them together and watches in rapture as they fall back into place. Your breath comes shaky when he drags his palm across your hardened nipple, the syrup slick on your skin and dying your flesh in streaks of sweet magenta.

It’s cold and your skin burns and you’re thinking it has something more to do with the DEA agent fondling your tits and less so with the swimming heat that’s swirling through the apartment.

Javier brings his mouth to your nipple, tongue pressing flat and teeth scraping achingly over the swollen flesh as your hips instinctively roll into his. He groans into your chest when you repeat the motion, arching into his mouth as your fingers press into the back of his head to hold him tight.

You can feel the sweat beading at the nape of his neck, the slickness of his skin that makes you wonder just how messy things can really get.

“Javi,” you moan softly, your shoulders hunching slightly as a high note leaves your throat when he begins sucking another hard bruise into the side of your breast, just beneath your nipple, “Javi.”

Javier doesn’t pull back until he knows your skin has bloomed the same shade of crimson as the syrup, the kind that turns violet in the hours after. Your exhale is already wrecked when he releases his grip on your left breast, guiding his clean fingers to the cusp of your shoulder and throat.

Your skin is sweat and syrup and he uses his other hand to paint you to his liking.

The next noise you make is the soft grunt of a constricted moan when he squeezes gently. It’s brief, but lingers long enough to make you rut your aching core against him like a bitch so far in heat that not even the melted ice running down your leg could sequester.

The air is heavy with more than humidity and every gulp feels like sucking down water, growing worse yet when Javier’s fingers move to the back of your neck, gripping tight into the muscle there.

Your cheeks burn with flustered anticipation when he cups your jaw with his other palm, sticky fingers spreading a layer of coloured sugar over your cheeks and chin. His thumb coats your bottom lip with it, skin tugging at that tacky stick of drying sugar.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

Your eyes are half lidded, heavy with the weight of your own desire, as you look down at the man. It’s not his order that gets your submission; it’s the demanding press of his thumb between slackened lips that jerks your mouth into motion.

Javier watches as you tilt your head as best as you could, your neck and head held securely between both of his hands. Your jaw works with each suck as you taste the artificial raspberry flavour of his thumb.

Javier helps you along, pressing his thumb into your tongue as you drag it over the sensitive pad of his calloused fingers. The act earns a tight squeeze to the back of your neck as he softly mumbles to himself more so than to you, “That’s it, mina. So good for me, aren’t you?”

Tipping your chin in a weak nod, you pin him with those achingly soft eyes with blow out irises and droopy lids that makes his cock twitch between all the layers of clothes. His thumb disappears from your mouth and leaves you gasping for air.

You grind into his jeans again and hear yourself moan his name. Fuck, at this point you weren’t even sure anymore if that dampness between your legs was from the melted snow cone.

“I thought you were cooling down,” Javi smirks, the words rough and dragging slow on his tongue like his thoughts were moving just as sluggishly as everything did in this weather. He manipulates your head in his grasp, tilting your head down as he drags his spit-dampened thumb over the heel of your chin.

“I am,” you hum, your body undulating slowly over the hard ridge pressing incessantly from within his jeans. Your fingers grip at the cup that you had forgotten was still sitting in your strained grasp, the styrofoam punctured in spots from your nails digging into the sides. Your lips curl with a mischievous smirk. “Spilling that snow cone all over me really helped.”

You take him by surprise when you press your palm to his chest and shove him backwards, the movement demanding of his obedience and his shoulders hit the cabinet with a wooden clatter and a spare grunt.

His eyes are starved and the way his lips pout on the remnants of his kisses make you want to sink further down and press your lips to his until you forget where your breaths become his.

Javier stares up at you as your index finger dips into the deep part of his button down, pulling until the button gives.

Slowly, you lower your head to ghost your sticky lips against his, your exhale warm over his chin. Your eyes watch as his flutter closed, his head tilting to slot his lips against yours with only the small hesitation to prolong the moment. His fingers twitch against the back of your neck and jaw, domineering but tenderly supportive as he kisses your berry lips until he tastes the salt of sweat that had gathered on your upper lip.

Javier doesn’t see when you pull his shirt away from his chest by the crook of your finger — doesn’t see when you tip the cup into the space and let the coldness of it jerk him out of his moments reverie.

“Jesus Christ!” He hisses, jerking back as his hands release your head to pull his soaked shirt away from his skin.

You laugh, loud enough that the sound might have floated through the open windows and down into the streets below.

“See? Cooled you right down.”

The laughter doesn’t linger long before he’s pushing you down onto the tiles, the temperature change that slaps against your lower back makes you arch uncomfortably as your thighs spread around his hips.

Javier cages you in, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s more tongue and teeth and frantic urgency. Your lips part on the heel of a grin and he takes the opportunity to drag his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

The humour turns foggy in your thoughts when his fingers tangle into the roots of your hair.

“I’ll get you back for that,” Javi speaks against your chin and you shiver at the damning sound of his belt unbuckling. That’s your cue to set your hands into the part of his shirt and pull until the buttons pop free, shoving the ruined article over his shoulders as he leans up to aid its removal.

“You promise, Javi?” You purr back, dragging your nails over his stained and sticky chest and drawing a lazy circle over his left nipple with your index finger.

He shudders and grabs your wrist, his fingers circling easy around the thin bird-like bones when he pulls your hand to his sternum in a silent demand to touch him. His eyes are dark and set heavy when he pins you with a look that makes you painfully aware of the profound empty yearning growing between your thighs.

You let your eyes follow your fingertips down the expanse of his chest when he leans back on his knees to tug his belt out of its loops. His eyes wander — over your heaving, food-colouring stained breasts to the way your thighs part eagerly over his thighs. They hang loose enough that he can see the blush of your cunt through one of the leg holes.

Javier growls deep in his chest at the sight.

Mindlessly, his hand trails through the remnants of the spill he had made on your thigh and carries the mess up into the open leg of your cotton shorts.

Your head falls back into the tile and your body coils achingly tight when he flattens his fingers across your pelvis and draws the coarse pad of his thumb over the seam of your pussy. Your knee jerks against his hip, your fist clenches in the hem of his jeans, and the noise that bubbles from your lips is just as heavy as the mid-heatwave air.

“F-fuck, Javi, baby—” you whimper, lower lip quivering when he presses his thumb past your slick folds to find that little bundle of nerve endings that make your back arch high and your thighs threaten to snap closed. His fingers are coarse against your flesh and you pull hard on his jeans when he presses quick, purposeful circles into your clit just to watch you squeal eager nonsense beneath him.

“Right there, baby?” Javier tilts his chin and watches as you shiver in spite of the swelter, your muscles quickly losing their coordination when he drags your clit with a single rough sweep of his thumb. Your thigh jumps, threatening to shut tight in instinctive resistance, but he presses a broad palm over your inner thigh and holds you open.

The noise you make, just like your laughter, reaches the taxi-lined streets below.

“Ye–yes— Javi, Javi! Please, baby!”

Javier swears he might have cum right fucking there if you called his name like that again.

You sob into the humid apartment, gasping down a lungful of wet air when Javier pulls his hand out of the leg of your shorts. Your thoughts lag behind your reaction as he hooks his hands beneath your thighs, pushing them to your torso before hooking his fingers into the damp fabric, guiding it over your thighs and calves. He does not touch the camisole still wrapped around your hips when he lets your thighs limply fall open around him again.

You swear the room gets a few degrees hotter without your clothes on, and even more so when you catch the way his eyes fall to your exposed cunt, surely just as glistening and damp as the rest of your fucking body.

“Please, Javi,” your voice is smaller now as your fingers find themselves back at the fly of his jeans, pulling until the button pops open. The sound of his zipper lowering and the soft drag of your voice is enough to get Javier just where you need him. You feel as much when you raise your shoulders to lower your hand into his jeans, biting back the teasing smirk at his convenient lack of underwear. Batting your eyes as innocently as you can, you draw him from the constraint of his pants to circle dainty fingers over the base of his cock.

There’s a heaviness in his eyes as he stays on his knees between your thighs, watching your honey-warm eyes droop with lust when his hand wraps around yours, tightening your grip with a soft exhale. You begin to guide him, cock first, towards your core.

For once, Javier’s speechless, swallowing thick in the heady air as he lets you guide him.

“Please, fuck me, Javi.”

The laze breaks when you whimper his name like that, desperate and shameless, sweetly polite while saying the most impolite things.

His fingers dig divots into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads you further, squeezing your palm beneath his, trapping it there as he drags the smooth head of his cock through your folds.

He doesn’t catch the way your eyes flutter when strokes himself against your clit, but he feels the way your ankles squeeze against his thighs when he draws back, angles proper, and stretches you open on his length.

“Fuck, baby,” Javier curses and your refuse yourself the pleasure of shutting your eyes just so you can look up at the way his head lowers, the tips of his hair hanging heavy and damp into his forehead while his brow furrows deeply at the sight of your hand beneath his as your pussy clenches tight and eager around the first few inches of him.

Even this wet, the stretch aches deep in your body with a small pinch of pain that you’ve grown to savour every time he comes home and loses himself between your thighs.

“I’ll never get tired of this pussy,” he growls, hearing the soft effortful noises that swim through the air between your parted lips when he circles his arm beneath one bent knee and uses the leverage to yank you forward, forcing you to take him completely, “Never, mina. Never.”

His head lifts then, catching the way your eyes wrench shut, the way your mouth purses together at the sharp strain and full pleasure that hits you too deep to completely fathom.

Your coy one-liners die a brief death before resurrecting again the moment your hand, previously wrapped around his cock, to your aching clit.

“You— better not,” you grunt, the words jerking out of your throat in uneven gasps as Javier rocks his hips into yours with determinedly shallow thrusts, working you open. He pushes your thigh further into your chest and you swear the air leaves your lungs when he hits that familiar spot that knocks the vocabulary straight out of your head.

Your walls squeeze around him and the heat he feels inside of you is blinding; fevered from the inside out and it brings sweat beading across his forehead when he slumps his body down against yours to bury his face against your shoulder. You whine, high and loud, when he pins your knee against your chest, trapping your fingers between his pelvis and yours when he circles his hips and grinds deep.

It’s sweaty and sticky and your skin clings to his when your tits push into his chest. Your free hand curves up the muscles of his back, feeling the way his shoulder blades shift under the press of your fingers when he sets his forearm on the ground beside your head and lays into you. Your nerves light white-hot and you squeeze him with every fucking muscle in your pelvic floor with each press of his hips that sends your fingers harder against your clit.

“Tightest little— thing I’ve ever fucked, sweetheart,” Javier groans, his mouth at your ear and his fist clenching around the spill of hair beneath your head, his words jagged and rasping with every steady thrust. His nose brushes against the patch of skin between your ear and jaw, his lips trailing down to the beating pulse of your throat and sucking another hard bruise right there.

You moan like a whore for him, his words coiling something deep and fucking feral in the pit of your stomach. You think you’re babbling, something along the lines of harder, Javi, please, please.

“Christ, baby, you’re a fucking mess.”

The closeness burns you up, even more so when he draws his hips back, dragging heavily through your soaked walls. You try to chase his movement, aching and squeezing around nothing until he’s inside of you again with a thrust so hard it tears the cry from your lips and sends your back skidding sweatily against the kitchen tile.

Javier tightens his grip around the underside of your thigh, and it hurts but you can’t process anything but the way he’s rutting into you like he means to fuck you straight through the floor and into your downstairs neighbour’s apartment.

Your eyes feel damp and you can’t tell if its tears or sweat or a little of both, much less if it’s your sweat or his.

“I’m close,” Javier’s voice echoes somewhere in the haze, gravelly and tight as every syllable vibrates across his chest, “Do you want me to—?”

“No!” A particularly solid thrust jerks the word abruptly from your chest and Javier almost laughs when you drop your hand from the back of his shoulder to the base of his hip, squeezing hard to urge him forward, “No, please, Javi. Cum inside, fuck— cum inside me.”

The demand falls to unintelligible cries as his fingers sink beneath your head, pulling your head from the floor as he fucks into you with little regard for the heat or the sweat or the layer of sticky sweet syrup that’s only getting stickier with each thrust of his body into yours.

You bury your head into his shoulder and cling to him as tight as you can, your fingers working quick circles over your clit until your muscles strain and shake before everything uncoils, slick and hot and all at once like someone just pulled the proverbial fucking rug out from under your body.

You gasp for air but the humidity of the apartment renders you breathless, even with a lung full of oxygen.

The reaction is far too familiar to Javier. He’s fucked you enough times to memorize the way you hold onto him when you cum — like your arms were made for nothing more than squeezing him into your body while you sob his name over and over until your throat goes dry and hoarse. Just like you’re doing now.

Javier tightens his grip in your hair as your cries hit their peak and your nails bite into the valley of his spine, your body going taught as you cum hard enough that he swears you manage to take him a few inches deeper into your fluttering cunt. He curses deep from his chest and swears he’s hit the limit of you when you gasp and threaten to instinctively draw your hips back and away from the pressure.

His hips stutter hard as your cunt gushes warm around him, muscles spasming rhythmically despite the stretch of him filling you to your limits. You choke on his name and your final gasp when he stiffens in your arms, his cock jerking into you once, twice — and then he groans something sinful and raw into the flesh of your shoulder that he has caught between his teeth.

You feel the warmth of him when he cums inside of you, the sensation drawing your addled attention to the weight of him nestled deep at home in your body.

Javier doesn’t move, only letting his forehead drop heavily against your shoulder as he kisses the marks his teeth had left in your glistening skin.

Slowly, your hand manages its way out from between your bodies, fingers slick with your own cum when you reach for his jaw and force his face from your shoulder to press your lips shakily against his.

He relaxes his grip on your compressed thigh, moving his hand to rest against the forgivingly cool tile as you let your leg slump boneless and open against his hip.

“Javi,” you sigh as he exhales softly against your mouth, the kiss stirring him just enough that he manages to push past his own overstimulation to give a lazy thrust. Your thigh trembles when he kisses you again, his tongue tasting that raspberry flavour still lingering in your mouth. He nudges his damp forehead against yours when he draws away to kiss your cheek, then your eyelid.

He laughs when his lips meet your forehead, tasting the sweat of your skin and the radiating heat of you on his lips. Javier lowers his lips to kiss you between your brows when a sudden booming brap brap brap makes the both of you jump in each other’s arms and jerk your heads towards the front hallway door.

Javier’s response was immediate, trained and instinctual, covering you while also recoiling one hand to where he usually kept his gun in the belt of his jeans — only to realize his pants were around his knees and his gun had been safely discarded on the hallway table.

“Oye!” A muffled voice, elderly and warbling, shouted from the other end of the front door. You felt Javier’s body slacken against yours, his brow furrowing as the woman rapped on the door again, “Mantenga sus ventanas cerradas, por el amor de Dios. Podemos escucharte desde el porche. ¿No sabes que hay niños aquí afuera?”

Javier’s brow furrowed as the neighbour rapped on the door four more times, the sound clearly coming from a cane and not from her fist.

You laughed, breathless as you raised your voice, “Lo siento, Miss Rosa!” you giggle out, sliding your fingers into Javier’s hair as he shakes his head with an amused look in his eyes. Your voice lowers as the woman’s muttering fades into the distance, “Lo siento.”

Javier shakes his head as you card your fingers through his sweaty locks, pulling his head down to press your lips to his chin and the corner of his mouth.

“You’re pissing your neighbours off again,” he murmurs.

“You’re pissing them off, Javi—” you hum out, but his only response is to press himself into you again, watching the way your lips still part in a small gasp despite having already softened inside of you, “—because every time you come here, this always happens.”

He laughs and the sound is easy and you know that his walls are lowered, though never completely down.

“What do you say we piss off Miss Rosa a little more, hm, mina?”

“Javi,” you warn, but his lips are already pressing slow trail of kisses down the cusp of your throat and over your chest. You hiss softly as he draws out of your pussy, leaving you suddenly with the distinct overflow of his cum when your walls squeeze achingly around nothing.

A sharp yelp of surprise bursts from your lips when the man grabs your sides and pushes you further up the kitchen tile, your hand flying up over your head to prevent the crown of your skull from colliding with the cabinets behind you, “Javi!”

He takes advantage of the new found space to lower his face to the apex of your thighs, drawing one hand under your leg as he presses a kiss to the side of your knee. Your cheeks redden when you catch him lowering his gaze to your pussy, all soft and pink and terribly fucked out.

You swallow roughly when he presses his mouth further down your thigh, pausing at the patch of dried syrup. His fingers grip your flesh, holding your leg still as he drags his tongue over your skin, closing his lips around your skin and sucking an easy bruise right there. He doesn’t stop until he pulls a moan from your chest. Only then does he press another kiss to your thigh, inching lower and lower.

This time, your voice is low, tinted with laughter and flustered when you press your hands to his shoulders and half-heartedly push, “Javi, don’t—”

“Keep saying my name like that and I’ll fuck you right here until we both get heatstroke,” Javi warns, the amusement in his voice clear as he looks up at you to ensure his permission to continue despite your half-hearted protests.

He lowers his head again. This time, his gaze doesn’t deviate from your face until your eyes slowly slip closed, your brow furrowing as a bead of sweat slithers its way down the side of your temple.

You whimper.

“Javi.”

—

Tag List

@sophiria @imspillingcoffee @plumbuck @romqnofff @sexygaypalpatine @elisaa-shelby @readermia @the-dream-catch3r @pinkmoontribe-blog @madkingcrowley @whenimaunicorn @petalduck @fairylightsandchai @osejn @mandowhoreian @letdecemberburninflames @chickens-are-velociraptors @naiomiwinchester @peregrinestook @space-helen @virtuousburden @daddehhmando @thechampmylove @kiame-sama @knightheartcd @lustriix @deviantloving-detective @headsindreams @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @sgtbookybarnes @celestiaalbliss @coonflix @thetrappednerd @brooklymw @the-omni-princess @sav-a-nna @actuallyanita @equalstrashflavoredtrash @claynarwale @pedrolovebot @mermaid-seachelle @sasha1005 @kausmic@otherthingsinhead @maia-hocane @thatoneemosithlord @whenimaunicorn @fictional-thoughts @lilli-chae @spottedlekkudancer @mijachula @djjarindin @murdermewithbooks @justagarbagecompactor @itzagoodthing @i-like-those-oddss @awhiskeywithawinchester

#whew #happy valentines day babies #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #narcos #narcos fic #javier pena smut

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dreamieofu · 4 years

Text

Just a Best Friend

pairing: haechan x reader ft. jeno word count: 3.5k genre: best friends to lovers!au, college!au, angst and a little fluff(?) summary: You’ve been best friends for so long, but when Donghyuck sees you with someone else, he wants you. warning(s): requested! ♡ jealous hyuck, slightly possessive hyuck... let me know if u catch more lmao

Donghyuck’s been next to you for as long as you can remember. Most of your early years of adolescence had images of his smiles, his teasing and his jokes. Happiness is what you find when you think about your best friend, warmth. Naturally, as you grew together, you started to see him differently. Donghyuck was now evidently taller than you, more confident and it seemed that he really grew into his big boy shoes. Although you felt a bit behind, in ways of him being able to get anyone to fall for him. Mr. Charismatic, he seemed to be everyone's friend. But, knowing he was the one waiting, leaning against the school gates, for him to walk you home; made you feel special. Because, even if everyone can call Donghyuck their friend, you’re his best friend.

He also had a soft spot, unknowingly, for you. Donghyuck liked the way you felt familiar, the way you made him feel grounded. Regardless of all the times he’d have his head in the clouds, you were there. Donghyuck also watched you grow, he can call out all of your little phases. But throughout all, you still remained you. A caring heart, a beautiful soul. In some sorts, you both compliment each other. Donghyuck was the end of your sentence, the start of your world. From the outside, it shows you’re both close. And no matter how many constant comments of “Are you two dating?” Donghyuck never expressed anything in the slightest that hinted romance to blossom between you. Even throughout the years, your feelings were a switch of platonic and infatuation. You never resolved for him to reciprocate. Maybe you’d write his name with a heart on your notes occasionally, but you’ve settled in your heart: Donghyuck was better off. Sometimes, in your seasons of fixation he’d have a different girl follow him. Someone temporary under his arm, whispering in his ear. But after each girl, he ended up back to you. Finding home within you.

In this particular season of Autumn, Donghyuck had a different girl he was flirting around with. Although none of these girls were of seriousness, all playful. It still weighed heavy in the corners of your mind. Pining and wishing you’d be the one he’d look at with crescent eyes and a warm embrace. You drifted this time. Distancing away slightly, a bit drained out seeing him with yet another who’s not you. You weren’t sure if he did notice, but he didn’t ask around for you either. You found yourself hanging out with somebody else. He was kind, and also had an infectious smile. Both you and Donghyuck had separate friends outside your tiny party of two. And Jeno was one of those friends. Jeno knew about your feelings towards Donghyuck, and you’re thankful he doesn’t judge you too much from your mumbling frustrations about him.

“It’s just… annoying. Whenever he dates around with another girl, he goes all side tracked.” You puff out, head falling onto your arms in front of you. Stretched out and resting against the wooden library table. You lift your chin to peek at Jeno’s face. He’s sat in front of you, eyes skimming through a textbook. You don’t wait to see if he’s listening because you carry on with your tangent. “Like, for example, he completely blew off our movie night! We have a movie every Thursday!” whining, your tone sparks a bit higher. This catches Jeno’s amused eyes as he flips the page, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, maybe you should tell him then.” He speaks truthfully, but in a playful manner. You lightly kick his foot under the table and he smiles at your poor attempt to hurt him. “Speaking of him,” Jeno mutters, eyebrows raising, and eyes diverting towards the library entrance. Your head turns along with his gesture, instantly locking eyes with none other than Donghyuck himself. And you inwardly roll your eyes, because it’s unfair. Unfair how effortlessly mesmerising he was under the cool lights of the library. He’s wearing your favourite hoodie (one that he’s let you borrow countless amounts of times for sleepovers) and his adidas sweatpants. Donghyuck rakes his fingers through his hair in a quick motion once he enters. Eyes meeting yours and an instant smile begins to form at the corners of his lips. He’s quick with his steps, making his way towards you. But you feel too flustered, quickly looking away just as fast as you noticed him. You send a look of panic to Jeno in front of you, but he just smiles. Awaiting the events that’ll unfold in front of him, making your state all the more amusing.

Before you know it, Donghyuck’s standing next to the edge of the table. His ring clad hands pressed against the wood in front of you. “Y/N… I tried looking for you everywhere,” panting slightly, barely acknowledging Jeno. You look up to Donghyuck through your eyelashes, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath. “But you didn’t look for me last night… for our movie night,” You fight him, lifting your chin. Your words and actions are barely passive aggressive because you’re pouting. This makes Donghyuck scoff at your cute antics, he did feel slightly guilty though. “Hey… I told you already, I couldn’t. I had a thing… You know, a girl thing.” He tries to indirectly apologise, mirroring your sulk. This makes Jeno laugh to himself as he crosses his arms and leans back against his chair, watching the both of you. You roll your eyes again, making a small noise as you turn your head away from Donghyuck’s lean figure. “Fine, I’ll just have those movie nights with Jeno.” You remark, teasingly. Jeno furrowed his eyebrows, before quickly looking toward Donghyuck for a reaction; because clearly you’re only saying so to push his buttons. “Who?” Donghyuck almost spits.

“Jeno.” You repeat his name more confidently looking at Jeno in the eye. A devilish smile forming, “Isn’t that right? You’ll watch a movie with me?” You completely ignore Donghyuck’s reaction, trying to telepathically scream at Jeno to play along. Your gaze is intense as Jeno gulps. “Yeah,” is all Jeno manages to get out of his mouth. His throat suddenly felt closed up and dry from the tension between you and Donghyuck. Jeno isn’t even looking at you - as his eyes were on Donghyuck who’s been boring holes into your head, whilst you watch Jeno. But as he looks at Donghyuck, he regrets it in a second as Donghyuck looks back. Finally acknowledging him. Jeno straightens his back, sitting up as he looks back at Donghyuck. He can’t read the look on his face, as he kicks your foot under the table for help. Silently pleading for you to say something. “Jeno is my friend,” You explain to Donghyuck, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. Donghyuck stays trained on Jeno’s figure, trying to figure out the type of relationship you both have, even though you just told him. A bit of jealousy tinges in him as he watches the way Jeno looks at you. He also heard the way Jeno kicked at your foot under the table. He didn’t like that, but you didn’t know. After a beat and a few seconds of him feeling embarrassed. Donghyuck tuts his tongue and leaves. Without looking back. You’re obviously confused, as you watch him leave. But Donghyuck always comes back to you, so you let him walk. Without putting up a fight. You sigh content that you managed to irritate Donghyuck, leaning back into your chair. “So movie night?” You grin, ignoring stunned Jeno in front of you. You begin to slowly pack your things as Jeno blinks at your actions. “He seemed more upset than usual. I don’t know-” Jeno starts, before you interrupt him. “No. He’s fine, trust me. He’ll probably call me later,” You send Jeno another reassuring smile and he feels more at ease, beginning to pack his belongings into his bag also. You both leave the library together. You walk out having small talk, mostly about this new Netflix show that premiered earlier in the week. Linking arms, to make way towards your dorm room. Jeno was easy to talk to, and you almost felt as comfortable around him as you did with Donghyuck. Of course the levels of comfort you found in Donghyuck was incomparable. You feel that Jeno thinks the same way. What you don’t notice though, is your best friend, who’s sat on a bench across the library. He’s sat with the same girl he ditched your plans for the night before. The girl's arms clung around his neck, whining about something he doesn’t even listen to. Donghyuck notices you almost right away, from the sound of your voice once you left the building of the library. He’s rarely ever saw you with a male friend and Jeno was new to him. Donghyuck thought you shared everything with him, similar to the way he does for you. And the fact that you didn’t tell him about the fellow, didn’t sit right with him. Donghyuck peels off the girl's arm, leaning forward to weigh his elbows on his knees. He holds his hands near his mouth, thinking, as he watches you walk somewhere linking arms with Jeno. Something feels heavy on his heart, seeing you hold someone else the way you’d walk around with him. Recently, if Donghyuck was honest with himself; he was dating around with different girl’s as a mechanism and a distraction for the way he’s realised he’s felt for you. He doesn’t know when it started, but he found his heart picking up a beat whenever you did the slightest unintentional thing towards him. He drove him mad, especially with the fact that he couldn’t let a single thing change whatever relationship you had for each other in this moment. Years of friendship weighed on his shoulders, tense and lined through all his veins holding him back from holding you the way his heart really wants.

“Okay,” You squeal, handing Jeno your special selection of ‘pick me up’ movies. Jeno skims through the movies and picks one. You arrived at your dorm a few minutes earlier, and so far you’ve received no call or update on Donghyuck, usually he caves in by now and gives you a call. But nothing. You shrug it off and wiggle your way to connect the movie to the projector you had in your room. You and Jeno were snug in your rather small, but comfortable enough, single bed. Knees up to your chest as a pillow laid between the both of you whilst watching. You’ve put your phone to the side, almost forgetting about Donghyuck. But he still seemed to itch the back of your mind. You tried your best to focus on the movie, trying to forget the way he walked away earlier in a strop. You side glanced at Jeno, who’s too immersed into the movie. Fighting back the thoughts but find yourself feeling a bit upset that Jeno wasn’t Donghyuck, in that moment. You do appreciate his company, of course. But it didn’t feel the same. You huff a small bit of air, reaching for your phone sneakily, ready to cave into Donghyuck’s silence to message him. But ultimately choosing not to. You decided that after the movie, which Jeno kindly accepted watching with you has ended, you’ll message Donghyuck.

The movie itself felt rather longer than you remembered, but its scenes made you forget about silly things. Making Jeno and yourself laugh until your stomach tensed and eyes were teary. You let Donghyuck slip your mind until there was a loud bang against your door. You and Jeno stop laughing, as you reach for your phone to check the time. It was 7pm, reaching late hours and also noticing 3 missed calls from Donghyuck, with a bunch of messages. Your quickest guess was that Donghyuck was at your door. “Give me a moment,” You smile at Jeno, you tell him to continue watching as you push yourself off your bed to answer the door. You swing the door open, the cool air brushing your face as you see Donghyuck standing there with a shoulder bag falling off his arm which is lifted in an attempt to knock on your door mid-way, once again. “Hyuck,” You call out for him, but he seems to be looking off behind you. “Hello… Earth to Hyuck,” you repeat.

Donghyuck notices Jeno sitting on your bed straight away. This time barely acknowledging your position calling out his name. That same heavy feeling of bitterness makes his heart beat slower and leaves his mouth with the taste of metal. Questions of: ‘Why is he in your bed?’ clouding his mind. He’s broken from his trance when he feels your warm hand clasp over his cold ones, bringing his fist down and holding it. His exterior softens, as he smiles down at you. “I’m home,” Donghyuck smiles, but you roll your eyes at him. This hurts him a little, seeing how you weren’t as excited to see him as he was seeing you.

“You’re so silly,” you express, still holding Donghyuck’s enclosed fist. You guide him inside, ushering how it’s cold outside. Your concern is warming at his heart, melting his jealousy about Jeno being sat on your bed. He slings his bag down against your dresser, crossing his arms. Eyes returning to Jeno’s frame. Jeno shifts in his seat uncomfortably, feeling a bit more tense under Donghyuck’s hard stare. “Stop trying to scare him,” You warn, playfully nudging his arm as you return back into your space on the bed. Donghyuck feels magnetic and a little over protective as he shadows your footsteps. He chuckles as he removes the pillow between you and Jeno, placing it on Jeno’s lap. He settles in between the both of you, naturally letting his arm maneuver behind your frame, pulling you into the side of his chest. You smile to yourself, easing into his warmth; both of you forgetting your tiny disagreement from earlier. “Did you have a good day?” you mumble, whispering softly as Donghyuck hums in response. His thumb soothing the side of your arm as the movie still rolls. Jeno stays silent and honestly he felt a bit out of place. But he stuck it out, glad that at least the movie was good. Once the movie ended, Jeno started to make his way out. “Thanks for the movie, Y/N. It was nice.” Jeno thanks you, while putting on his shoes. You watch him, returning his smile.

“Thanks for coming, let me know once you’ve arrived home.” You smile at him, a small fist bump to the side of his bicep for extra gratitude. Jeno smiles back at that though, already standing at your door about to leave. “See you next time.” He nods to the both of you. You watch as Jeno leaves through your hallway. He doesn’t look back. “He’s nice.” Donghyuck pulls you back in, still sitting in your bed. You turn your head from the door and smile, shutting it closed and locking it. You fall slump on your bedsheets, feet hanging off the edge of the bed ignoring his comments. Small butterflies seem to flutter in your heart, weighing down as nerves fill you. “He is really nice,” You comment back, eyes looking up at him.

“Nicer than me?” His eyebrows raise, sucking in his bottom lip to pull a face. You giggle at him, arm stretching up to lightly push his face away. Donghyuck catches your hand before you let it slide back to your side. Silence filling the room, the projector softly highlighting his features as a breath hitches in your throat. His hands feel soft as you look up into his eyes. Finding reason. You’re lost for words, because he stares down at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. “Well is he?” Donghyuck asks again, barely inaudible.

His tone of voice causes you to sit up and go closer to him. He feels small, his hand falling with yours to settle onto his lap. “You’re the nicest person I know,” You confess earnestly, trying to find his eyes. But his head is hung low.

“Really?” His voice faint, tracing small lines at the back of your hand with his thumb. “Well, you’re my best friend for a reason,” You chuckle, trying to lighten up his mood, but he doesn’t budge. He just lifts his head, gazing after your smile, fixated on the curves of your lips. He gulps down the nerves and parts his lips, mesmerised by you. “Well, what if I don’t want to be your best friend anymore?” Courage spiking, altering your moods. Now you feel small. He watches your face conform from happy to confused. You pull your hand away from him, suddenly aware of his words.

“What are you talking about?” Donghyuck just sighs, looking away from you. You stare at the side of his head awaiting his answers. Possibilities overcrowding your thoughts through his silence. After a few comfortable seconds, he turns to look at you again. Your eyes are already staring at him, making him feel weaker. “I just, I don’t like you around Jeno,” He mutters, changing the subject he originally wanted to start, cowering out of honesty. “I don’t like the way he looks at you, with that smile.” This time you try your best to hold back on your laugh. You’ve never seen him react this way to someone, you found Donghyuck rather amusing, his cuteness tightening around your heart. “So what do you like?” You tease, watching Donghyuck eyes glisten. He doesn’t reply at all, his dark eyes latching onto your attention in the quietness of your bedroom. Realisation slowly settling in your heart as your position slacks. You feel light headed, you knew him like the back of your hand, and here he was silently granting all your past wishes. His eyes scream at you, but you don’t react the way he was expecting. “That’s not fair.” you spit. Anger starts to bubble at the way he dares to confess something of that magnitude. Wordless, and out of possession. “That’s not fair at all Hyuck,” You echo, air holding your words by a thread. You push distance between you, shaking your head. “I’ve- I have been loving you for years on end,” tears start to form, glassing over your gaze, weakening your confession. “And all of a sudden, because I’m hanging around a boy too much for your ‘liking’ you claim you like me?” The sound of your voice raising a little out of disbelief. You’ve watched Donghyuck on the sidelines flirt with girls, and wave them around your face for so long. And he strolls along with a hearty smile, and his hooks so deep into your heart, vulnerable and telling you he wants you. “Crazy right? Took me to see you smile and cling around with a guy to properly find the courage to tell you. Huh?” He talks, but mostly to himself. He messes with his hair out of frustration, letting a small profanity slip his tongue. He sinks back into your pillows, beating himself up about it more than you were, from the looks of it. Donghyuck begins to mutter about how stupid he was, and that he knows it’s wrong and how silly he is for not realising. You watch him out of curiosity, seeing him have a battle with himself, telling himself off instead of you.

You’re reminded about small habits like this, in Donghyuck. Your previous annoyance drifts the longer you hear him talk bad about himself for being so idiotic and inconsiderate. You’ve decided long enough, he’s beat himself up about it for too long: you reach out, pushing his cheeks together to land a kiss onto his lips. Shutting him right up. He felt tense at first, shocked that you kissed him. But then smiles, noticing how you’ve already forgiven him. As easy as breathing, he falls into your kiss. You pull away with an angry face, “Would you shut up?” teasingly.

Donghyuck only looks back at your face with hooded eyes and a soft smile. “Only if you kiss me again,” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. Your hands still framing his face, you see a spark in his eyes as he waits patiently for your kiss. He’s finally so close to you and reciprocating. You breathe out a small laugh, smiling, as you connect your lips. Granting his wish. Lips molding togethers perfectly, as his hands pull you by the waist. Pushing your bodies together, fitting effortlessly between his hold. Your thumbs grazing the sides of his face as he changes the direction of his chin, kissing you deeper. His lips are so soft, you feel like you were delving into your dreams. All your fantasies come true, as he holds you close, whispering “ I love you,” in between the gaps of your breaths. Finally becoming more than just a best friend.

#nct scenarios #haechan scenarios #nct dream scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct donghyuck scenarios #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck angst #haechan imagines #donghyuck fluff #nct dream fluff #nct fluff

188 notes · View notes

free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

folklore - isaac lahey {2/?}

part two because i just couldn’t wait lmao! this chapter focuses a lot on the reader but there is some cute isaac moments in there too because i wanted there to be more to the story than just reader and isaac’s relationship <33 this part is kinda just setting stuff up tho so dw!

platonic derek x reader in this part :) and isaac ofc

please let me know what u think :)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, i think that’s it???? let me know if i misses anything <3

my taglist is still pretty wishy washy for this so i’m gonna tag the people who enjoyed part one, thanks for all the lovely feedback <3

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings let me know if you’d like to be added or removed <3

PART 1

PART 3

Endless thoughts plagued your mind as you wandered through the crowded halls. It barely registered with you that Derek could be home and not bother to check in, although maybe it was for the best, you were pretty sure that he was still a wanted man- for a crime you were also sure he didn't commit. You knew Derek, despite the fact that you weren't related by blood you saw each other as family, you knew how he treated his family, it was what he treasured above all else and there was absolutely no way in hell that he had burned his whole family tree to ash.

He and his uncle Peter were the only Hale's left as far as you knew, however saying that Peter was "alive" seemed like a bit of a reach. The man who used to tell you stories and sneak you candy whenever he saw you was completely immobilized now, scarred to the point of being almost unrecognizable, he couldn't talk, he could barely move, he was even being fed through a tube.

Peter was a particularly close friend of your father's, he'd always made you refer to him as 'uncle Peter' and the man did the title justice treating you like one of his own. And while you called him Uncle Peter, he- and the rest of the Hale's- always called you something different; "The littlest of the pack" though you never understood why the family had such an obsession with being known as a pack, you were more than delighted to know that they considered you part of it.

When you were old enough you started volunteering at the hospital which held Peter and after six months of hard work, sweeping hallways and helping the overworked nurses they finally bumped you up to keeping patients company. Since you were still in school you were mostly at the hospital at night and on Sunday mornings, the same time as your favourite nurse, Melissa, who always assigned you to Peter when she was manning the same ward as you. To be honest it was rough seeing him in such a state, it was as though everyone you loved seemed to struggle- the thought alone always made you choke up, made you wish you had some kind of power to take it all away, to make everything better. But you didn't, so you simply read to him, told him about what was happening in the news, stories about what was happening at school as Peter was always one for a good scoop of gossip, you even confided in him about the sharp sting you felt in your chest whenever someone you cared about was in pain, himself included. The logical thing would've been to simply stop visiting him but if you did then he'd barely have any human interaction for the rest of his life and ignoring the fact that he couldn't show it, you knew deep down that he could hear you, felt that he appreciated your visits.

Without even realizing where your feet had been carrying you, too lost in thought to notice, you found yourself nearing Isaac's locker, the boy himself hunched by it, his face hidden by the blue metal door. It was easy to forget over the weekend and after hanging out alone how shy Isaac was, he was a completely different person around you, he was loud, granted he still wasn't as loud as you but he certainly knew how to find his voice, he stood straighter as opposed to how the tall boy stood in the school hallways. To you he stood out, in a perfectly beautiful way, you often chastised him for not giving himself enough credit, always asking if he'd ever even looked in a mirror. Even with your endless compliments that made him blush every time without fail, Isaac still chose to blend in, but you didn't blame him- you blamed his asshole of a father for making him believe he was anything less than wonderful.

It was no secret that Isaac was taller than the average teen in Beacon Hills standing at six foot one, which meant he gave incredible hugs but it also meant he tried his very best to fold into himself in larger crowds and he regularly walked with his head down as to not draw attention to himself, even standing at his locker he bowed his head.

Shaking off your thoughts you walked up to your best friends side, tugging his sleeve softly to alert him of your presence before wrapping your arms around him, enveloping him in a side hug and allowing your head to rest against his arm while he wriggled it out of your grasp to wrap around your waist more comfortably, not paying his burning cheeks and racing heart any mind as he shifted his gaze from organizing his books to the girl clinging to him with a pout on her face, "What's up, buttercup?"

Nuzzling your head further into his side you let out a dramatic sigh, "I heard from Scott that Derek is back in Beacon." Isaac felt his eyebrow raising at the mention of both names, Scott's because you seemed to be hearing a lot of things from him in the last couple of days and at Derek's because he was pretty sure you hadn't seen him in years.

"How would McCall know if Derek's in town? Isn't he pretty much your cousin?" Isaac asked, thumb moving soothingly against your hip as you melted into him, shoulders slumping sadly and your pout only becoming more prominent. His voice sounded slightly aggravated at the mention of Scott but you thought nothing of it, thankfully. Isaac didn't want this to turn into a conversation about his petty jealousy.

"Forget cousin he was more like my big brother. That's what's got me so twisted! Why would he come home and not even bother to check in?" You murmured grumpily against the fabric of the flannel Isaac was sporting instead of his usual cardigan, which reminded you that he couldn't have worn his usual cardigan because you'd forgotten to give it back to him the night before and sported it yourself. The comfy grey material hugging your shoulders as you hugged the boy that the item of clothing actually belonged to.

"When did McCall say he saw him?" Isaac inquired, sorting his books with one hand.

"Yesterday."

"Alright well that wasn't too long ago maybe he's planning on checking in today?" He suggested, finishing up at his locker and throwing his bag over his shoulder, dropping his hand from your hip and sliding it into yours, interlocking your fingers and giving you a comforting squeeze before he began leading you towards the school's double doors, the last class of the day having already ended.

Letting out another sigh you only nodded, swinging your interlocked hands between you as you walked towards the exit.

"I promised my dad I'd finish a plot at the cemetery so he'd let me come over tonight so I'm gonna be a little bit late." Isaac broke the silence, looking at you with an expression that was mixed with disappointment and exhaustion, "That's okay." You offered, squeezing his hand as he'd done yours earlier.

"Do you want a ride home?" You asked him, nodding your head toward your beat up, second hand car that the pair of you had already made several memories in since you got it almost a year ago for your sixteenth birthday.

The brown haired boy only shook his head, giving you a soft smile and nodding towards the bike racks, "Nah, I brought my bike today."

Nodding in understanding, you leaned up and pecked his cheek while you let go of his hand, "Alright. Since you're gonna be late I'll pick up the movie for tonight myself. You just meet me at my place whenever you're ready, Kay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Letting out a soft laugh he watched you walk to your car, already missing your warmth beside him.

The first thing you noticed upon pulling into your driveway was the slick black car that was parked beside your mother's blue one, in your usual spot. The car was new and you didn't recognize it, you quirked an eyebrow, putting your car in park behind your mother's, grabbed your school bag from the passenger seat and got out with a slam of the door.

As you entered the house you were met with the sound of voices floating from the kitchen, picking up on the hushed conversation as you made your way towards the three voices, "You need to tell her." One said, a man. "It's too soon." Another sounded, you recognized the voice to belong to your father. "No, he's right, if what he says is true she's going to get caught up in it either way. Especially now the Argent's are in town." That was your mother. Your eyebrows furrowed, you could only assume that the 'she' they were talking about was you but what you didn't understand was what exactly they were debating telling you and why it had anything to do with the Argent's, were they talking about the Allison girl who had just joined your class?

You pushed open the kitchen door, eyebrows knitted tightly together, your brain taking a second to catch up with who your eyes were seeing, "Derek."

The name left your lips in barely a whisper when your eyes landed on the dark haired man leaning against your kitchen counter with a small smile playing on his lips as he greeted you, "Hey, kid."

Without wasting anymore time you launched yourself forward, arms wrapping around Derek's middle as he let out a sigh, his own arms moving around you slowly to reciprocate your action with a tight squeeze.

"I missed you!" You exclaimed punching the older man in the shoulder once you detached from the hug, expression turning accusing after a moment prompting Derek to purse his lips and brace himself, he knew that look, he hadn't seen it in a while but he knew it. That was your "I've got a bone to pick with you" look, Derek had to fight off the smile that threatened to grow on his lips when he realized that this particular look hadn't changed since you were five years old.

"Do you want to tell me why Scott McCall got to see you before I did?" The man under fire let out a defeated sigh, "If it makes you feel any better I would've rathered it be you that I bumped into." He responded halfheartedly, letting out a huff you turned towards your parents who were sat at the dining table.

"What were you guys talking about before I came in?" You questioned, feeling nervous as the three adults suddenly went rigid, glancing between each other before Derek nodded his head in your father's direction, silently encouraging him to tell you what they'd been discussing earlier.

Letting out a heavy exhale through his nose your father motioned for you to sit down in the chairs across from him, Derek moving to sit beside your father in front of you as you did. "This is going to be hard to believe but I need you to keep an open mind while we explain, alright?" You only managed a nod of your head, nerves ever-growing as you waited for someone to elaborate on whatever they were about to tell you.

"You've heard of werewolves haven't you?"

"Sure." You responded confused, the question seemed out of place in what you assumed was to be a serious conversation.

"Well they're real." Your father responded. You couldn't stop the snort that left your mouth, breaking out into a fit of giggles before you noticed the three adults before you looking at you with absolutely no trace of amusement. "Wait you're serious?!" Your eyes almost bugged out of your head as Derek's eyes flashed blue and he bared his teeth in response to your exclamation.

"...So the howling Scott said he heard in the woods?" You trailed off, eyes wide as Derek nodded his head, "it was a werewolf."

"You?"

"No. An alpha."

Eyes never leaving Derek, you posed another question, "Is this why you're family called themselves a pack?"

The man nodded, not being able to get a word in edgewise while you continued to fire out question after question, "You guys always said I was the littlest of the pack does that mean-" Your mother cut you off with a light chuckle, "No babe, you're not a werewolf." A sigh of relief left you when you slumped back against the kitchen chair, a small twinge of disappointment flooding through you, that would've been cool.

"You may not be a wolf genetically but you're still a member of our pack." Derek assured you, sensing your disappointment. "Are they in the pack too?" You inquired, glancing quickly at your parents before returning your gaze to Derek.

"No. Just you." You couldn't lie and say the statement didn't make you feel special but still, it confused you, "Why not?"

It was your mother's turn to speak now, giving the werewolf a break from your constant curiosity.

"Back before the fire your dad and I had a certain role to play in Beacon Hills," she started, reaching for your hand before she continued, "from the minute you were born you bonded with almost everyone in the Hale house, we didn't understand it completely but we assumed it was because of how close me and your dad were to them. I guess they kind of saw you as their newest cub after Cora." Derek chuckled, chiming in with a quiet, "More like runt of the little." Giving him a glare you kicked his shin under the table while he laughed and you nodded for your mother to keep going.

"Anyway, as you already know me and your dad met in college- studying Mythology. We uncovered supernatural occurrence after supernatural occurrence and those supernatural occurrences eventually led us here, to the Hale's." She told you, looking to your father for him to continue, he cleared his throat before speaking, "We got caught up in it, built a huge repertoire of supernatural entities, including werewolves, I met Peter and we made a truce, ended up becoming best friends in the process."

Nodding your head slowly you spoke up again, "So you guys were like… their supernatural encyclopedia?"

"Pretty much." Derek answered.

"Okayyyy… but that still doesn't answer my question, why am I in the pack and not you guys?" You posed the question to your father who looked at your mother nervously.

"When you were four things got messy, really messy," Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes muttering "understatement of the century" under his breath as your father went on, "Your mother got captured by hunters, Chris Argent and his little gang of merry men." He tensed his jaw, saying the name through clenched teeth before composing himself, "So your uncle Peter made the executive decision to initiate you into the pack to make absolutely sure that nobody would get their hands on you."

"Why?" The three of them erupted into laughs at the look on your face, Derek opting to answer the question, "I don't know how you did it but you had him completely wrapped around your finger. Peter is the most selfish person I've ever met but he would've sooner died himself than let anyone touch a hair on your head. As part of a pack members protect each other at all costs. With you officially a member it meant that we were bonded to you, you were one of us." The mention of Peter made you smile, not that you'd admit it to Derek but you felt the newly exposed pack bond strongest with Peter, the dots only connecting in your head now years later. Derek picking up on your train of thought spoke up, "That's why you can't bring yourself to stop visiting him."

Your mother's voice cut in again, "Those four crescent scars on the back of your neck are from Peter, it's how he marked you as a member without actually turning you." She explained, your hand absentmindedly rubbed the nape of your neck, fingers tracing deftly over the scars that you often forgot about.

"I know it's a lot to digest but there's one more thing." Derek sighed, a slight feeling of guilt growing within him for having to dump this on you all at once. When you didn't say anything, only looked at him he continued, "The hunters who kidnapped your mother, well they're back."

Anxiety bubbled up in your stomach as you whipped your head to your mom, "Are they gonna try take her again?" Your voice was bordering on sounding manic, Derek's voice quelling your worried before you had a panic attack.

"No. I don't think so at least. It's me and the alpha they're after, and- I trust you not to tell anyone this- your friend Scott too." Your eyes widened yet again, Scott was a werewolf? That must have been why he was seeking Derek out earlier today, "That's why he was looking for you isn't it?" You voiced your thoughts, Derek rose an eyebrow in response, "Looking for me?" You nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, today in school, he and Stilinski started asking me a bunch of questions about why you were here- I told them I'd help them find you." You clarified, trying not to laugh at the exhausted look that came over Derek's face when the name Stilinski fell from your lips.

"Tell him to meet me in the woods later. I need him to help find the alpha." Derek instructed, watching contently as you pulled your phone out of your pocket and began texting Scott, thankful you'd gotten his number.

You: I'm with Derek

You: He wanted me to tell you to meet him in the woods later

Scott: When is later?

"When is later?" You voiced, not looking up from your phone, "After dark." Derek answered and you laughed, "Alright, Bruce Wayne."

You: He says "after dark"

Scott: :/ cryptic much

You: Best I could do wolfie

Scott: He told you??????

You: Yep, I'll fill you in tomorrow there's a lot to unpack here…

Scott: Please don't tell anybody

You: Your secret is safe with me don't worry

With that you set your phone down in front of you, before something crossed your mind, "Wait you said Argent earlier right?" Derek nodded, your mother and father having moved from the table, preparing food in the kitchen.

"Allison Argent just started at my school, I'm pretty sure Scott has a crush on her actually." You informed, shrugging your shoulders lightly, picking up your phone when it buzzed and missing the way Derek rolls his eyes.

Isaac: I'll be over at 7 <3

You: Great what movie do you want me to get?

Isaac: Ladies choice ;)

You: Hope you like Legally Blonde xoxoxo

Isaac: Seriously again?

You: You said my choice no take backs, love you <3333333

The time was 5:45pm and the sky had turned from blue to black, you assumed Derek would be heading off to stress Scott out soon enough so you stood from the table and grabbed your jacket, "I'm gonna go rent a DVD for me and Isaac, you guys need anything?" You directed towards your parents who were messing around in the kitchen like teenagers causing you to roll your eyes but smile.

"Huh? No we're okay. When is lover boy coming?" Your father asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you, laughing at how you groaned, "Stop calling my best friend 'loverboy' one of these days you're gonna slip up and call him that to his face and he'll literally die of embarrassment on the spot!" You yelled, cheeks burning and expecting your mother to come to your defense only to have her laugh along with your father, "Yeah, don't talk about your future son in law like that."

"God, you two are the worst. Derek tell them to stop harassing my friendships." The dark haired man rose an eyebrow from his seat, a strict look on his face, "She's too young for a boyfriend."

"Thanks, Derek. That was absolutely not helpful at all, but thank you." You muttered, grabbing your car keys and heading out the door.

You loved your parents, adored them, they raised you incredibly- that didn't mean they didn't annoy the hell out of you sometimes, though. They had about fifty names that they liked to call Isaac instead of his actual name, the most popular being "loverboy", "heart eyes", or your mother's personal favorite "future son in law." You supposed it was good that they liked him enough to consider him a future son in law, however, it was pretty insensitive when they could clearly see that you were painfully in love with him and fighting with inner turmoil because of it.

After a five minute drive you pulled up to the video store, stepping out and noticing Lydia Martin in the car next to you, you made brief eye contact with the strawberry blonde and the pair of you exchanged friendly smiles before you entered the store. Lydia was nice but you noticed she wore a facade around school, more specifically around Jackson. You remembered quite vividly how she shot Isaac down rather brutally back in freshman year. He'd only asked her out to prove a point to you, you couldn't remember what now but you'd gotten in some form of argument and the resolution you'd come to was that he prove himself and ask someone out, that someone happened to be Lydia. He didn't really like her but the whole debacle did significantly bruise his ego.

Of course, wherever Lydia Martin is Jackson Whittemore was never far away. You almost laughed when the first thing you heard after walking into the store was the jock shouting about not being able to find "The Notebook".

"It's over there." You chimed in, alerting him of your presence and pointing straight ahead of him towards the movie he was searching for.

Nodding thankfully the blonde made his way toward the far shelf while you walked to the other side of the store.

Despite being across the room, Jackson's gasp sounded clearly making you nearly jump out of your skin. Placing a hand on your rapidly beating heart you just shook your head and let out a long breath. You were probably just hearing things, your mind concocting noises to psych you out after learning the new information about the supernatural, Jackson's gasp had absolutely nothing to do with the snarls you thought you were hearing from behind you.

You had yourself convinced you were just hearing things. That was until the snarls became mingled with hot, slobbery breaths that hit the nape of your neck, shocking you into spinning yourself around. You couldn't help the yelp of fear that left your lips when your eyes met beaming red orbs… the eyes- they weren't human.

What you were looking at you could only describe as a beast. A wolf. The ability you usually possessed to control your breathing left you as you heaved, continuing to stumble back as the creature took steps forward until your back hit a row of shelves painfully. DVDs crashing to the floor in your wake.

The creature was face to face with you now, snout coming in contact with your nose as it's demonic eyes bored into your soul. It snarled as you felt your heart rate increase, it was going so fast you were half scared it would detach from it's blood vessels. Everything about the creature scared you, from its eyes, to it's snarl, to its fangs baring in your face, but what frightened you the most was that you felt like you knew it. There was a familiarity with it and you could not for the life of you explain it but you could feel it.

The scream that left you when the beast finally lunged for you with snapping jaws shook the store as the wolf sunk its teeth into the soft tissue of where your shoulder connects to your neck. The pain you felt was as blinding as the eyes that stared at you, the beast raised it's hair covered paw in the air, fully intent of swiping the last remnants of life from your now limp form before it suddenly stopped, looking at you with so much uncertainty. Not getting a chance to analyze the new look on the things hairy face the creature resumed its position on all fours then crashed out of the store window.

"(L/n)?!" Jackson whisper shouted, from around the corner, only seeing your legs peeking out from behind a row of shelves as he made his way over to you, his movements jittery. You tried to call out but your voice failed you, you kicked your legs out weakly to let him know where you were, not knowing he was already rushing towards you.

"Christ… ok just stay awake I'm calling the police right now." The blond, who you'd never known to care for anything other than himself, spoke frantically- shaking as he pulled out his phone.

Your hearing faded in and out as Jackson shouted at law enforcement over the phone. Tilting your head to the side, very painfully, you began to panic once you noticed the gaping bite that had been taken out of your neck, you whimpered pathetically at the sight of your entire shoulder, neck and hair drenched in blood, your blood. Your panic seemed to rub off on Jackson as he noticed your breath becoming heavier and heavier by the second, tears falling down your face as you stared at your injury in fear.

It was just then that sirens wailed from outside, this eased Jackson's nerves, the boy, you had to hand it to him, didn't leave your side until you were safely in an ambulance- your nerves however were still fried, panic growing by the second as strangers fretted around you, yelling orders at each other and pushing painfully against your wounds. Calm didn't settle over you until one of the medics injected you with a needle, you didn't have a clue what was in it and you didn't have time to theorize as your world turned black.

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf x reader #isaac lahey

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 4 years

Text

When it rains - an Edgejeanist backstory

Ao3 link

As I have mentioned before I wanted to do a drawing for this eventually but it would take a lot of effort and I don’t have that in me right now so I’m gonna share it with you in the form of a rather long jumble of words instead :D it might be too long to read on tumblr because it kept on crashing the app when I worked on it so please feel free to read it over on ao3!

I wasn’t really happy with the drawing I did for the injury prompt so I’m posting this to make up for it lmao

If you have not read my Edgeshot backstory (well the summary that I did), I do recommend it because it may give some context as to what they’re talking about!

This was originally meant to be happy but it turned out kinda angsty (unsurprisingly)...but then I managed to make it not as angsty?? Anyway ->

Warning: a few times they talk about death, mentions of injury, self-doubt and generally quite sad stuff.

Also, it turned out incredibly long so imma stuff it all under the cut for those of you who don’t wanna read it :)

Hakamata Tsunagu wasn’t one to usually complain when sent on a mission, however on this particular stormy evening he really didn’t fancy the idea of being caught up in a case that wasn’t in his own area, simply because he was “passing by” trying to go home. But, he understood that this guy was quite the hassle and it would probably be best to sort it out as soon as possible. When he arrived to the area he could see that there were already many other heroes on the scene, including one of the higher ranking heroes - Edgeshot. They had met before and had worked together on various cases due to the two of them being known for rather rapidly climbing up the ranks, not to mention that their ranks were neighbouring and often would over take one another. So they knew each other, to some extent. He walked over to where the ninja hero was standing to ask him about the details of the villain they were going against.

“Fire-type quirk, troublesome. Had many sidekicks aiding him in an armed robbery. We’ve managed to apprehend most of the smaller accomplices, however this guy’s a pain, so I was told to wait for you to arrive in order to end this quickly.” The fiber hero hadn’t even said a word and had already gotten his answer.

“I see. I guess we should probably get to it then, as he seems to have his eye on escape.” Jeanist swiftly responded as he went on to restrict the villain’s clothes to prevent him from moving any further. Luckily, the area had been cleared out and the other villains had been carted away by the other heroes that were in the scene, so the only ones left in the area were the two of them, and this maniac.

The air around the two pros started to heat up and before they could act, flames burst from the open air around them causing them both to flinch and Jeanist to lose his focus. The villain started to sprint away from the scene but Edgeshot was one step ahead of him. The hero had rushed over and the two had started to engage in a fight, and the villain had no problem with using his quirk to aid in this. Jeanist tried to drag the villain back to the open space using the denim threads of his own clothing and had managed to grab hold of him, however, the two were unaware of what the man was carrying. He was taken back when a cold, sharp object came flying towards him, cutting through the high collar of his hero costume and through the skin of his ear and cheek - causing him to curse quite audibly.

“Watch it!” The silver haired hero hissed as he took another swing at the walking flamethrower, now also knife-thrower apparently, in front of him.

“My apologies,” mumbled the lanky blond as he regained his posture once more and continued to restrain the armed robber.

The other hero hesitated for a moment. “Ah- wait no, sorry, I meant uh- I meant the other guy, not you sorry.. you just got a knife thrown at you why would I yell at you?” They hadn’t properly spoken before so Shinya really didn’t want to give him the wrong impression of himself, especially since it was someone he kind of admired and...uh well...yeah. The two shared a rather awkward apologetic glance as they tried to come up with something to say but were rather rudely interrupted when-

“Oh for THE LOVE OF-” the villain angrily snapped around, “YOU TWO ARE REALLY DOIN’ MY HEAD IN! WOULD’YA GIVE IT A REST? OR AT LEAST JUST. SHUT. UP.” The heroes barely had time to react when the villain set his whole body and the air around it on fire. The flames engulfed the two who were previously fighting each other and briskly travelled along the threads that were restricting the man from escaping, and towards a startled Jeanist. The fire had reached the fiber heroes arm at this point and was obviously going to spread further if it weren’t for him removing that part of his sleeve, only shortly after the ninja hero had speedily shot forwards and cut through the fiber that connected Jeanist and the villain, his own arm very much ablaze. However, he didn’t look too concerned for his own injury as he eyed the taller man’s scorched arm.

The two heroes were now starting to get rather tired. Not because they were weak, or this guy strong, but just because they wanted to go home. They’d really had enough at this point and really wanted to just end this before the weather got any worse, but this stupid lunatic just wouldn’t give in! Maybe it was the fact that they had never really fought alongside each other before, so were holding back the more powerful, more dangerous side of their quirks - in case a mistake would be made that could injure the other. That was probably why it took so long.

After many more painfully long minutes, they had managed to wear down the robber enough to get close enough to knock him out. Tying him up, the two heroes handed the unconscious villain over to the police that had just arrived to help clear up the scene of any passer-by’s. At this point, it was the late evening and already rather dark and gloomy, the sky let out a large growl as if to warn that it would only get worse...and well, it’s point was proven as it started to rain.

The blond hero sighed and glanced up at the sky in dismay, realising that all that paperwork wasn’t going to get done by itself, and grumbling at the fact that he still had to get back home - which was going to be a real pain in this weather. He wasn’t a huge fan of the rain, especially with that denim hero costume of his, but he decided to ignore all of that and started making his way towards the train station, hoping to get home before the weather becomes too bad. Edgeshot noticed the other hero’s intent to go home and looked back up at the sky. No chance. That weather was way worse than Jeanist thought it was and he knew that by the time the other man reached the train station, there would be an unbelievable length of time before he would be able to get to where he wanted to go - not to mention how busy it would be. Taking a moment to think things through, he decided to chase after the lanky hero and called out to him, suggesting a better idea.

“I wouldn’t take the train right now if I were you,” Shinya advised the tall figure in front of him.

Tsunagu was confused, he wanted to get home and that was currently his only means of transport. “Why? What’s wrong? Please tell me there’s not another villain to deal with...” he murmured. Oh he really hoped that wasn’t the case, because there’s no way he could fight in this storm - especially with all these new burns, they may have been small but wow they hurt like hell! He looked down at the shorter man in front of him, weary of the answer he may receive but felt an odd sense of relief when he saw him let out a light chuckle. Or was it cough? Maybe a sigh? How would he know - that man was as mysterious as they get!

“Ah no, that’s not it.” Shinya couldn’t help but feel amused by Tsunagu’s response. The rain was soaking into his costume and was making it a little harder to breathe through his mask, so he tried his best not to laugh. “It’s just that this storm isn’t going to be easing anytime soon, and I feel that it’s only going to get worse - there’s no chance that transport will be easy, especially not for a hero in such a state as yourself.”

“Oh...I hadn’t thought of that,” Tsunagu replied, “do you...have any suggestions as to what I should do instead?” He understood what the other was saying, he had quite a few burns and a large gash across the side of his face - there’s no way that people wouldn’t notice that - but he really did want to get out of this miserable rain. So where could he possibly go, if not straight home?

“Yes, actually, that’s what I was wanting to talk to you about.” Shinya shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure as to how he should phrase his next question. “Um...well...my...my house- I mean, do you want to stay at my place? Until the storm blows over-” he stopped himself mid-sentence. That did not come out the way he heard it in his head, and why did he panic?

“Pardon?”

“Sorry, I-” Oh. Right. He probably didn’t understand that rushed mumble of his. Thank god, Shinya could have another go at mending his failed attempt at a suggestion. “Ah...my house isn’t far from here, it doesn’t take that long to walk there. And, well, I just wanted to suggest that you come with me. Those injuries could do with tending to, and with this storm getting worse, I just thought that it might be of help to you to stay at mine until the storm passes. Only if you’d be willing of course- It’s simply a suggestion I thought might be easier than you staying in this rain.”

“Oh. I see. That’s...thoughtful...I- are you sure?” Tsunagu was taken aback, but was definitely not opposed to the idea of getting out of the rain.

“Yes, of course. If you are okay with accompanying me?”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“...thank you”

Shinya glanced up at the taller figure in front of him and smiled. Not that you could really tell.

They both decided it would be best to stay somewhere warm, get patched up, and wait for the weather to relax. So, off they went, away from the scene that had just been up in flames - now basically back to normal - and toward wherever this mysterious little ninja’s home was.

————————————————————

After a while of walking through heavy rain, dodging leaves as they zoomed past on the wind of the winding path, and silently accompanying each other with minimal words between them, they finally reached Shinya’s house. Not in the middle of nowhere, but also not near any busy city noise. It was peaceful, well, as peaceful as it could be in a raging storm.

Shinya fumbled at the door handle with numb fingers, as he attempted to unlock it as quickly as possible. The door opened with a small click and was gently pushed open. He gestured for the taller man to enter and closed the door after them, relieving them from the cold wind. As soon as they were both inside, they shared a long sigh of relief - ahhh....warmth...

“Sorry, it isn’t much,” Shinya said as he set down his bags and rain soaked hero gear, “I’m the only one that lives here, so I never really thought about how small it was. But now that someone else is here with me...”

“Haha it’s fine! Lovely, even, I think it’s quite sweet.” Tsunagu chuckled, placing his heavy and rather soggy denim coat gently to the side. He’d always liked the more traditional style houses, they had this comforting feeling to them that he couldn’t quite describe. “How long have you had this place?”

Shinya smiled and led Tsunagu towards the living room, they could do with a sit down after all that walking. “It was my Gran’s, well, she wasn’t really my Gran but that’s what we called her. She took us in and looked after us - my sister and I - and after she died we kept this place. Eventually, my sister moved out to be nearer the main city, but I thought it best to stay. I’m comfortable here, you know what I mean?”

“Of course,” Tsunagu nodded, “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Thanks...”

Shinya looked up, watching as droplets of water dripped from the other’s droopy fringe, his own hair now clinging to the side of his face. They both still had their faces masked and breathing through damp fabric probably wouldn’t be very good for their health. As Shinya noticed this, he let out a startled noise that took Tsunagu by surprise.

“AH!”

“What? What happened? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just realised, we’re still stuck in our costumes. They’re soaked! It’s probably best if we get cleaned up before anything else...” Shinya exclaimed.

“Oh, right.” Tsunagu replied quietly. He’d actually forgotten about the rain, which was weird because normally he’d be grumbling about it louder than the storm itself!

“There’s a spare bathroom downstairs, just to the left of the kitchen. It’s quite small but works just as well.” Shinya handed Tsunagu a towel and some spare clothes, looking a little hesitant as he did so. “I had some spare clothes lying around, though I’m sorry they probably won’t fit you very well...you’re very tall compared to me...” Shinya muttered sheepishly.

Tsunagu chuckled at the shorter man’s rather obvious remark and folded the fabric that was now in his own hands. “That’s very kind of you, thank you. It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to adjust it to fit well enough.”

“Oh, of course, that’s- you can do that can’t you...I kinda forgot about that.” Shinya felt even more embarrassed from that, but managed to brush it off as he looked back up at the rather amused figure in front of him. “Well anyway, I’ll be cleaning myself up upstairs and preparing the things we need to tidy up those troublesome injuries of yours-”

“And yours I hope.” Tsunagu briefly interrupted.

“O-of course,” Shinya stuttered a reply. He’d actually somehow forgotten about his own injuries, too caught up in the company of another for once. “Well, if you should need anything, please just call me, I’ll be down as soon as I’m finished- oh and don’t feel the need to rush, take as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

Tsunagu watched as the other left the room before making his way towards the bathroom. It was quite a small room. He made sure the door was securely locked before peeling away his sodden hero costume, piece by piece.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed how deep of a cut it was that ran across his left cheek and over his ear. The rain had washed away most of the blood but it was still quite the nasty injury. He grimaced. ‘That’s gonna leave a bit of a scar...’ he thought to himself. Oh well, just another one to add to his growing collection of them. Although, he suddenly realised something. He’d have to show his face. And what about Shinya? Didn’t he always cover his face as well? Would they really be able to trust each other enough to show their faces to one another - even though they barely knew each other?

He felt himself freeze as he thought about it. They were both known for masking their faces, but the idea of showing his face had always made him feel uneasy. Little did he know that about five minutes prior, Shinya had the same nerve-wracking revelation and was feeling just as conflicted as he was. ‘Stop it, dammit,’ Tsunagu frowned, ‘he’s been so kind and nice to you, I doubt there’s anything to worry about...’

He shook his head and brushed these worries aside before stepping into the running shower. Oh wow, that felt nice. The water flowed over his shuddering body and embraced him in a warm blanket of comfort. Though, it did sting a bit when it seeped into the crevices of the gash on his face, and over the burns on his arms. However, he didn’t mind. He was used to these kinds of small pains and, though he’d be ashamed to admit it, he found it oddly comforting.

At the same time, Shinya was preparing a first aid kit, disinfectant and some warm damp cloths (he, luckily, knew what he was doing. Even if I don’t lol). He’d already managed to clean himself up and had changed into some older, plain clothes - so fast, but as expected from someone as stealthy as himself! Humming quietly to himself, he listened as the sky let out another loud grumble. “Why are you so angry today!?” He chuckled at the noise the raging storm made as he tidied up, “you’re doing this on purpose aren’t you! You always seem to pick ever so specific times to conjur up a storm...is it because I seemed lonely? You want me to make a friend or something?”

The sky growled again and Shinya took that as his response. He’d always found himself talking to the nature around him when he was alone, it had just become a habit of his - he found comfort and company from doing so...and it always seemed to have a way of replying. He was a bit anxious at the thought of showing his face to another, but had managed to push away his concerns as best he can. ‘What else is there to be worried about, Shinya?’ He thought to himself. ‘He’s already in your house. So in terms of his knowledge about you now, you’d basically already be screwed! He knows where you live, so I don’t think that showing your face would be that bad. Plus he’s a hero, isn’t he? Not to mention he’s trusting you with his own identity too...it’ll be fine...’

He sighed and clutched his stinging, scorched arm. Glancing at the rain that danced its way down the cold glass of his bedroom window, he headed back downstairs to give company to his guest who was just as battered and tired as he was.

Shinya set the items he had prepared, down on the small coffee table and walked to the kitchen to grab some hot water. As he stood there, he heard the bathroom door click and turned to see it open ever so slightly. “You’re done? I’ve prepared some stuff to bandage up our injuries and disinfect that nasty cut of yours,” he called out.

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” Tsunagu replied from behind the door.

“...uhm...would you like me to go and wait-”

“Oh! No, there’s no need, sorry...” Tsunagu blurted out as fast as he could. “It’s just...well...I...” he trailed off. ‘It’s never been easy, will he understand that?’

“Don’t worry, I understand. But I guess that with it being just the two of us here... can we say that we may fully trust one another?”

Tsunagu let out a small sigh of relief, before nudging the door open further and emerging from behind it. Making eye contact with the smaller figure in front of him, he smiled gently as he allowed the other to view his face. Shinya doing the same in return. “I guess so.”

Shinya locked eyes with the man that stood in front of him. Wow. He...did not look anything like how he expected...not that he really knew what he expected. Damp, blond hair was messily ruffled across the top of the taller man’s head. He’d managed to make the spare clothes fit well enough to make it look as if they could possibly be his own, though they were still awfully short. They suited him well, actually, and Shinya felt himself stare a little at this gangly noodle in front of him. Why did he look good in those clothes? Hell, they’re old and rather tatty and are way too small for him, and yet he still manages to look like a freaking model in them! And to top it off, they were just some clothes that Shinya owned, that happened to be the longest things he could find! He was unsure of why, but the sight in front of him definitely made him feel rather “odd” (in his own words) - though he didn’t really know what that was.

There were so many things about him in that moment that seemed so out of character for “best jeanist” but what really caught his eye were his scars. Ignoring the large cut on his cheek, Shinya traced his eyes over the bottom half of Tsunagu’s face in a shared silence. Large scars ran from just above his chin, and down to his neck. Some ran over his lips, which had formerly been pressed together to form a small smile, but were now separated slightly in a shocked manner. Noticing where he was staring, Shinya felt his face heat up as he quickly averted his eyes and looked down at the kettle that he was clutching (he went to go boil some water, but had gotten distracted before he could actually put the kettle on). ‘What on earth are you doing, Shinya!? I mean he’s really pretty, sure, but you can’t just stare omg-’ he lectured himself as his face progressively got more unnaturally warm, ‘those scars though....whatever caused those couldn’t of been a small accident...’

Concurrently, Tsunagu was completely stunned. ‘Pretty...’ was the only thought that circulated around his mind for many long seconds. Not only was this man incredibly considerate and mysterious, he was also very pretty and wow did that make Tsunagu’s face redden like an overheated saucepan. He took in his sharp features with observant eyes. Shinya’s hair was no longer fashioned into spiky points, but was now pulled up into a high ponytail. He still had that long fringe covering his right eye, but instead of seeming blocky, it was now loose and soft - and oh wow was Tsunagu really resisting the urge to pat it - though it still looked to be quite sharp, as if you could cut your fingers on the edge of each strand. Tearing his focus away from the shorter man’s hair, he found himself softly staring at Shinya’s face. Though his first thought may have been about how pretty he was, he couldn’t help but notice the other’s scars. Yes, he had quite a few. They were mostly quite small and would go unnoticed by some, but there was one that stood out. A long scar, in the shape of a large gash just like the majority of his own, ran down from just under the corner of the uncovered side of Shinya’s mouth, and down to the middle of his neck. ‘What an idiot.’ Tsunagu thought to himself. ‘You were so busy worrying about showing your own face to even think that he’d be worried about the same thing...it’s...oddly comforting to see another that hides them...even though its not something I should probably be comforted about, since it means that there’s most possibly a painful story behind them...just like my own.’

After a couple of minutes of a shared, awkward silence, Shinya started the conversation back up again with a few stuttering words exchanged between them and nervous laughter. “Ah...um...I guess we should probably...you know...”

“Aha yeah, sorry...” Tsunagu rubbed the back of his neck, “the...uh...you...you forgot the hot water...”

“Oh! Yeah...sorry about that! Um, please, go and sit down. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Tsunagu made his way to the living room and sat down, his mind still curious about all these new discoveries. The pain in his cheek had started to sting even more than before and he was really wishing that he didn’t have to deal with that right now. Letting out a shaky sigh, he reached up to grab it in a hope to ease the pain slightly, but his burnt arm got caught on the edge of the sofa, causing him to let out a distressed grunt.

“Are you okay?” Shinya asked from just beside where the taller man was seated. Tsunagu was quite startled by the other, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Ah, it’s just this stupid cut. It’ll probably be better once it’s been treated,” Tsunagu brushed it off, still rather confused by the speed of which the other man seemed to appear without being noticed.

“I see. Well, everything has been prepared so we should probably take care of that first.” Shinya smiled and took a seat next to the other man, gently picking up a cotton swab and dipping it in disinfectant. “The cut just has to be disinfected before anything else though, who knows what else that bastard had been doing-”

“Haha! You’re approaching this just like a proper doctor! So serious and everything,” Tsunagu laughed.

This made Shinya chuckle in response. “Well, I do like to think that I know a bit about what I’m doing!”

They laughed together for a couple of minutes and the tension between the two of them started to dissipate. Tsunagu eyed the cotton swab in Shinya’s hand and realised, how on earth was he gonna do that himself? Well, I think we all know that the answer is he wasn’t. Even he came to that conclusion, as he exchanged funny words with the man in front of him. Shinya knew this, and decided that it was time to tend to the lanky blond’s wounds.

“Do you trust me?” Shinya slyly asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you trust me?”

Tsunagu was hesitant to answer, not because he didn’t trust him, but because he had a feeling as to what was going to happen. “...yes...”

Without missing a beat, Shinya leaned forward and pressed the cold, disinfectant-soaked cotton pad against Jeanists cheek. This caused Tsunagu to scrunch up his face and let out a tiny screech from the shock - it stung like hell - and he was not prepared. “Wrong answer!” Shinya chuckled. He was a little unsure whether he was actually going to do that or not, but knew that it would only hurt more if the other man had to slowly and hesitantly do it himself...plus he actually knew what he was doing.

“Argh! You- you’re evil you know that?” Tsunagu yelped and sat upright, trying to get used to the sting of the disinfectant that was seeping into his cut.

“I try my best,” Shinya hummed as he held the taller mans face, tilting it slightly upwards to better see the injury in the light. Whilst doing so, he noticed how many scars were littered across his face, and felt a little sad at the sight of them. ‘There’s so many...I didn’t really notice before, but now, seeing them up close...these all feel like painful memories. And no matter how much I understand his reasons for hiding them, I cannot help but wonder what on earth happened to him...’

Tsunagu held his breath, wincing every once in a while as the smaller man dabbed the gash on his cheek. He was so close! Not only that, but he was holding his face and wow, did he look like an angel as the light illuminated him from above. He felt the tops of his ears redden as he let out a small breath. As Shinya held his face close to his own, Tsunagu noticed things that he hadn’t spotted before, and made him even more curious than before. Like the front tooth that was slightly chipped, that he could see when the other’s mouth twitched open everytime he dabbed at his cheek. Or, the two rather odd but beautiful tattoos that were wrapped around his two wrists. ‘So much to take in, I didn’t really notice it before, but all these things are so unique and different. His face looks so soft....and pretty....But I truly do wonder what could’ve happened to cause that.’

“Your scar-” Tsunagu mumbled before quickly cutting himself off. ‘Tsunagu, you idiot! You weren’t supposed to just blurt that out...I guess there’s no other option than to just ask now you stupid- stupid, ugh!’

“Hm?” Shinya locked eyes with the other in a distracted confusion, before getting embarrassed and quickly looking back down.

Tsunagu stuttered as he tried to find the right words to say. “O-oh, well...I, uh...Sorry, I was just curious about your scar. It’s just- I, well...wondered-”

“How I got it?” Shinya interrupted quietly, almost in a rather hushed tone.

“Ah. Yes. Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, it was simply a curious thought.”

“No, it’s alright, it’s okay. It seems both our curiosities lay in the same area of thought.” Shinya smiled softly, lowering the cotton swab and throwing it in the bin. As he went to pick up the thread (you know, the one they use to stitch up these wounds) Tsunagu placed his hand on his arm and stopped him from doing anything else. Shinya handed the thread to Jeanist and watched as the blond man slowly and carefully stitched up his now clean wound in one gentle swoop of his hand - though it did look quite painful by the look on his face. “Woah!” Shinya exclaimed in awe. He often forgot about the beautifully handy and elegant things that the other man could do with his quirk. This caused Tsunagu’s ears to redden even further.

Shinya let out a deep sigh and sat back slightly to take a rest for a moment. “Ah, where do I start? You said you were curious about my scar, but I’m sorry to tell you that this isn’t any light-hearted story...” he started, scratching the back of his neck and wincing as the burnt skin on his arm brushed against the fabric of the sofa.

“Sorry, you don’t have to...”

“No, it’s alright! To be honest, I think it would actually do some good to tell someone for a change...because, for once I feel that I can trust someone, and that’s a weird thing...” he muttered the last part under his breath so that the kind man next to him wouldn’t hear it. Tsunagu simply smiled in response, looking down as he acknowledged the smaller man’s courage to reveal a very clearly painful memory.

“Uhm, well, are you...are you aware of the small band of mountainside villages down south?” Shinya asked, “if I’m correct in thinking that you are a couple of years older than me...”

“Pffft- did you just call me old?” Tsunagu snorted.

“No! Of course not!” Shinya quickly defended himself. “It’s just that, you are around my age, so I was just wondering whether you’d know of it or not.” He smiled sheepishly as he watched the other’s amused face turn into one that was more focused.

The older man hummed quietly. “Yes, I think I know which villages you are talking about. My mother used to take us there every year when my father was off of work, to go and watch the yearly festivals. Oh, and to visit the market! They had some amazing tomatoes!” Shinya laughed at this little comment. They truly were some good tomatoes, though he preferred the strawberries that they’d grow there. “But...we...we stopped visiting when...” Tsunagu trailed off with a frown and looked back up at Shinya, noticing the distant smile that was faintly spread across his face.

“Then, you know what happened...you know what happened all those years ago?” Shinya questioned quietly as he reached for the bandages that were tangled in the basket. But, doing so only made his arm quiver in pain even more.

“Ah, please, let me do that,” Tsunagu insisted, reaching out for the bandages and using his quirk to gently and swiftly untangle them. He gave Shinya a reassuring look and gently took his arm, starting to wrap it very carefully. “Yes. I was around...13? Yeah, I think I was about 13 when it happened. It was all over the news, I don’t think I could ever forget it. It...was so awful, just hearing what happened...” he had a rough idea as to what Shinya was going to tell him, and it made his heart sink at the thought of it.

The sky let out another huge growl, and a streak of lightning flashed past the window, causing Tsunagu to flinch. Shinya didn’t move a muscle, but simply carried on with what he was doing.

“Hm.” Shinya felt his face warm up slightly as the taller man held his arm softly. ‘So gentle’ he made himself blush even more, but shook these thoughts away before continuing with what he was saying. “I guess it’s kind of obvious then, what I’m about to say I mean.”

“I...I don’t want to immediately assume what happened, but if what I think is true...”

“Yeah.” Shinya sighed. “It was my home. I’d lived there all my life until that day...they...they took everything from me...”

Tsunagu stopped wrapping the other’s arm and looked up, their faces merely inches away, taking in the broken sadness in his eyes and allowing it to drown his heart even further into the pit that it had sunk into.

“Everyone I knew, my friends, my family, everyone, they all died in front of me. There was nothing I could do to stop it... I was the only one that survived...just me...a small, defenceless, 10 year old child. I grew up as part of a family that was renowned for protecting their people, yet I couldn’t even protect my own innocence...my...my own mother...” Shinya’s voice started to get weaker and smaller as all of the memories started flooding back.

Tsunagu could do nothing but listen in shock. This was a lot to take in, and Shinya was trusting him enough to tell him something this personal. It pained him, watching the small ninja’s face contort into a broken frown. “...I’m sorry...”

His voice made Shinya snap back to reality and look him in the eye, confused. “What for? There isn’t anything for you to be sorry for...”

“No, I mean, making you have to think back on a memory that painful...it must’ve been horrible.” Tsunagu finished wrapping the other’s arm and let go of it slowly, hands still slightly lingering over the injured area.

Shinya sighed. He couldn’t disagree with that, it truly was the most painful memory he could imagine. Tucking his silver hair behind his ear, he reached up and touched the scar on his chin. “This was from that day. The people who ambushed us tried to attack me. They had stolen my own grandfather’s sword and managed to just catch my face as my mother whisked me away. It hurt, but I didn’t really notice it until later on...which...well...it’s not like they survived either...”

“Oh dear.” Tsunagu muttered, his face and arm still stinging. The wind picked up and rattled against the window, startling him again.

“I guess you’re wondering what these are as well,” Shinya gestured towards the intricate patterns that were inked into his wrists. “My family was part of that village for many generations. Over these generations, the Kamihara name became rather well known as a family of protectors and guardians. When my family died, I felt like I had lost all my connections to being a ‘Kamihara’ and so I decided to get these tattoos.”

He lifted his left arm, “this represents my father’s side of the family, the Kamihara name.” Then proceeding to point at the other arm, he explained the rest. “This represents my mother’s side of the family, always one with nature. I find that it’s a comforting way to keep them with me at all times, even if they’re not really there. It means that I can keep them safe, and in return they keep me safe too.”

“Wow...I think they’re beautiful!” Tsunagu breathed. They really were. The patterns were so small and intricate yet they held so much meaning and story...just like Shinya himself. “That’s- quite the tragic past...”

“Hm. Well, that’s what happened really...not all of it, but I think it’s best if that is shared some other day.” Shinya plucked the bandages out of the lanky blond’s hands and gestured towards his arms, waiting patiently as the other hesitatantly held out his own scorched arm. He looked back up at Tsunagu’s face and, out of some sort of instinct, reached up and gently touched the long scars on his face, deep in thought. After a very brief moment of...whatever that awkwardness was, Shinya snapped his head down to look back at his hands and Tsunagu averted his eyes in a nervous manner, both turning much redder than they had been before. “A-ah, I’m sorry!” Shinya immediately blurted out.

“No, it’s- it’s okay...” Tsunagu managed to stutter out. Blimey, that was awkward, why did his face feel so hot?

Once they had both managed to laugh it off, Shinya decided to return the same curious question that had been on both of their minds. “So...your scars...how did you get yours?”

Tsunagu froze. He knew it would come up in the conversation at some point, but he still had that reaction whenever someone asked. Shinya noticed this, and panicked a little, “Sorry! You don’t have to-”

“No no, it’s only fitting for you to ask the same question...and I think it’s best you know, since you shared your own story with me.” The anxious Jeanist interrupted. “But, I must ask you not to think ill of me after hearing this, nor should you feel the need to keep me here...I’m...it’s just...I-”

“It’s alright,” Shinya reassured him, “I’m not gonna kick you out of my house, just because of your past...you...didn’t judge mine.”

“Heh,” Tsunagu smiled and watched as the small ninja bandaged up his arm delicately. “Well, it’s not a happy story either, I’m afraid!”

“Guess that makes the both of us!” Shinya let out a light chuckle.

“Yeah...” He paused. These memories still scared him. “When...when my quirk activated, I didn’t know how to control it, like most children. The only thing is, both my sister and I had our quirks activate at the same time, being twins and all this was expected. This, however, just made things worse. I was...I was wearing a scarf at the time, and, well basically...to put it simply, I strangled myself.” He looked up, realising how stupid that sounded.

“Oh! That’s awful, though I’m sure it was probably much more traumatic at the time,” Shinya smiled sympathetically. “I can’t really say the same for my own rather embarrassing quirk discovery....”

“Well that sounds like a story I’d love to hear!”

“Oh, I’m sure!” Shinya laughed and cut the bandage carefully, tying the ends around the other’s slender arm and making sure that everything was secured nicely. “So, was it that which caused those scars on your face? That sounds horrible.”

“Ah,” Tsunagu shifted his eyes in thought, “not exactly...you see, there was an accident later on in my childhood...and...well, it did a lot of damage...” he trailed off, “not only to myself...”

A loud clap of thunder startled them both, and Shinya darted his eyes up to see Tsunagu looking down at him with a solemn face. ‘Whatever happened, that doesn’t sound good...in any context...’ he thought, choosing not to interrupt the taller man.

“It was a villain attack that burst out in the middle of the street. My family just happened to be passing by, but there was this loud scream and I turned around just in time to see that this villain had taken a young girl, about my age at the time, and was planning on taking the rest of her friends too.” Tsunagu paused again, he wasn’t sure how to word this, he never knew how to say it. But this time, it seemed a lot easier. “Before I knew it, and well this is quite typical isn’t it, I found myself in the middle of it all, unable to breathe or move. There was...blood everywhere...pieces of fabric were piercing my body, strangling me, completely littering the area. I- I remember, just, hearing my sister screaming...the pain I felt...she had to go through it all...but I couldn’t do anything, the heroes couldn’t get near me.”

Shinya sat there, stunned from this information, unable to form words. It sounded like such an awful situation to be in, even from his own point of view. He watched as the blond man shifted in his seat and turned to lean back more comfortably with a sigh, unsure of what he should say. However, he thought that it would be best to allow Tsunagu to continue.

Tsunagu felt his chest tighten at the memory of what happened, but still carrying on. It felt nice to talk to someone about it for once. “I had managed to very seriously injure my neck and face, unable to breathe, especially from the panic that I felt. I thought that was the worst part...it really wasn’t.” Tsunagu looked up cautiously at Shinya, wanting to say something but too scared to go further. Shinya saw this and placed a small hand on his shoulder, trying to think of words to say.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say much in terms of comfort. But, whatever it is, please know that I’ll listen no matter what.” He gave a small smile. Despite the fact that they hadn’t really talked before this, he already felt that he could trust him, and wanted the other to feel the same way. He’d made many mistakes in the past, and had done things that had weighed down on him all the way through his life, so knowing that Tsunagu probably had the same thoughts towards whatever it was that happened to him.

Tsunagu felt relieved. No one had ever said those words to him before, and for once he felt that he wasn’t alone. And he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel like crying. He nodded slowly and took a deep breath before carrying on, “...well...I- I looked up to see the villain in front of me...he wasn’t breathing, he’d been caught up in the strands that I’d sent flying and...I...he...he didn’t survive...I killed him. Just a small, scared 12 year old child, yet I’d managed to kill a man in a moment of pure terror. I- I think it was how angry I felt that someone was being that bad, I don’t know...but whatever it was, I couldn’t stop it, and the fear from that day has haunted me ever since.”

Shinya was shocked, he had a feeling that something like that must’ve happened, but it was still not something he’d been expecting or hoping to hear. Though, he’d experienced the same kind of shock himself, so he knew that it wasn’t something to be taken lightly. “I...poor child...that’s not something that someone should go through...I know from experience as well...”

“Wh- really?”

“Yeah. Those villains that ambushed my village. In a moment of blind rage I had managed to rid of them entirely, completely unaware of what I did. So, I guess, we aren’t too different, huh?”

“Wow...yeah...look at us, just a couple of very traumatised, depressed and barely capable adults, trying to make a living out of helping others...heh.” Tsunagu remarked, making Shinya chuckle in agreement, his mind easing more and more. “Y’know, I got bullied a lot, trying to become a hero. My quirk was ‘not suitable’ for it and I was ‘weak’. The more they said it the more I believed them, and well, knowing what I had done and knowing that I’d not been able to save that man who was simply going down the wrong path...I really did feel weak. Ever since, I’ve just buried myself in my work, trying to give myself a reason to feel ‘strong’, taking on as many cases as I can even if I know that I can’t do them alone...and well these moments have caused me to make some...stupid...decisions in the past, and, well they’ve all left their mark on me quite prominently.”

Shinya’s eyes softened as he heard the other man spill all of these worries that he’d been hiding for so long. “Oh...poor Hakamata-senpai...” he said with a slightly saddened look.

“Ah, it’s alright. To be honest, I don’t think I’d be where I am now without their bitter words and mean, pain-inflicting prompts. Also, please, ‘Tsunagu’ is just fine!” He normally didn’t mind the formalities, but for some reason when the small ninja sitting beside him used them, it made him feel odd.

“Oh, okay.” Shinya’s face heated up slightly at the thought of using the other’s first name to address him, he wasn’t used to that. “So, I guess we both have kinda...depressing backstories...to our scars and ourselves in general.” (You may not be able to see it but eclair is currently smiling very gleefully)

“Yeah,” Tsunagu glanced at the rain dancing down the window, “I guess so.”

————————————————————

After a long time of exchanging funny stories (well, they aren’t funny at all really, they’re either sad memories or quite self-deprecating...but I guess that’s their way of bonding...to simply share their most traumatic experiences and become friends....huh) the tension between the two of them had almost completely lifted. They sat there chatting away, all bandaged up and tired as hell, simply making the most of each other’s company.

“Oh come on, how is that not funny-” Tsunagu exclaimed, gesturing towards Shinya as he laughed. The pain in his cheek had faded, almost completely, as he slowly became more comfortable.

“Because! You try tripping over, knocking yourself out for 2 hours on the edge of a stone fountain and chipping your tooth. It isn’t a fun experience!” Shinya said enthusiastically, very defensive about the little chip in his front tooth - in response to the taller man’s question.

“Of course, sorry! Poor little Kamihara-san~” Tsunagu replied with a smile.

“Please, just call me Shinya!”

“Shinya, huh?” Tsunagu felt a little bit shy at the thought of using his first name, but it would probably be easier. “You know, now that I think about it, being in the middle of this storm isn’t so bad.”

Shinya smiled. He’d always loved this type of weather, and seeing the lanky man in front of him start to agree, he felt like he’d somehow accomplished something.

They were startled from their little conversation by a loud beeping noise coming from Shinya’s phone. When he checked it, he let out a shocked gasp and this caused Tsunagu to be slightly worried. Was it something important?

“What? What is it?”

“I can’t believe it...it’s already 1:45...we’ve talked for so long!”

Tsunagu widened his eyes in disbelief as he checked his own phone. Yep. That was the time. They’d gotten so carried away by their conversation that they’d become completely unaware of the time. They shared a very shocked look before snickering at their own carelessness. “Hah! To think that there was a time I’d never imagined this would happen.”

Shinya quickly got up from his seat, and started to make his way to the kitchen. “Sorry, I realise that it’s probably way too late for this, but I realise I never offered you food!” He called out.

“It’s okay! I forgot about it myself! But to be honest, what food could we possibly have at 1:46am?” Tsunagu inquired, slowly becoming more aware of the hunger that crept through his stomach.

“Hm...” Shinya thought before looking back up at the confused man with excited eyes, “pizza?”

“Pizza?!”

“Uh-huh!”

“Who on earth sells pizza at this time?!”

Shinya chortled at the other’s comedic remark. “Oh, you seem to be forgetting all that I told you about my very first internship...” he said slyly.

“Of course...that’s actually a brilliant idea!” Tsunagu laughed. Well...who doesn’t love getting 50% off of pizzas, even at 1:47 in the morning!

So, they ordered pizza. Just...two pro heroes, chilling out at 2:00am, eating pizza instead of sleeping off their injuries. How fun!

After even more time, the two of them decided it was best to actually get some sleep, and Tsunagu watched as the silver haired man quietly said goodnight and crept up the stairs, before setting his head down on the arm of the sofa - his legs dangling over the edge.

He listened as the wind and rain battered against the window. Normally, he’d be fed up by these noises, however that night, he found himself listening to it peacefully, and he had a thought:

‘maybe the rain isn’t so bad after all...’

19 notes · View notes

starxscream · 3 years

Note

Saltatus Magma lmao!!!!!!!

Saltatus : Dance

Boy oh Boy we’re in it now! Sorry it takes so long to get to the actual dancing part LMAO

The laboratory was quiet, the only noises that echoed through the silent room was whatever was coming from the project that Enigma had decidedly dedicated himself towards today. Likely to abandon it within the following week, as he usually did once he predicted the outcome before he even finished testing it. Enigma was usually right after all

Enigma had no idea how long he had stowed himself away, buried in his work. No one attempted to bother him while he was working anyways, having learned that it was near impossible to drag him out of his lab unless it was an emergency. No rest, no time to waste, Enigma continued working- a methodical self-built machine to keep going no matter what.

That’s likely why he didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching his domain, the door opening to reveal another man who had been looking for the engineer. The only one who usually dared to disturb him while he worked- Matt. Though he doesn’t say anything, only lifts and eyebrow and leans on the doorway, watching Enigma fiddle with whatever technological advancement it was trying to accomplish now.

A small knowing smile stretches across Matt’s face, tilting his head as he waits for Enigma to notice him, though he knows the other man won’t. For as smart as Enigma was, it really was still quite thick headed.

As Enigma grabs a tool of the bench, reaching around for a part that he needed and then twisting it into place, Matt finally lifted himself off the doorway having reached his limit of waiting. As much as he loved watching the genius at work, he was here for another reason. Matt saunters up behind Enigma, before draping himself over the smaller man, wrapping his arms around Enigma’s chest best he could in that position.

There’s a grunt of surprise, the piece of metal in Enigma’s hand dropping with a clatter on the table as he tries to turn his head to see who it was- but he already knew.

“Matt.” Enigma’s frown deepens, clearly annoyed that he had been disturbed by his work. “What are you doing here?” Straight to the point as always, though unlike normally, he didn’t immediately try to wiggle out of Matt’s grasp.

Rolling his eyes, Matt squeezes just a bit tighter seeing as Enigma wasn’t pulling away from him, eyes flickering to it’s long shark-like tail that flicked on the ground. “Don’t you remember? We were going to go out tonight.”

At the tighter squeezing, Enigma shuffles in his seat, attempting to wriggle from Matt’s tight embrace to little avail, “It’s already eight?” Enigma mumbles with a tsk, talking more to himself than to Matt.

“Yes it is, so why don’t you put this down and get cleaned up. We’re already running late and I got us reservations at this really nice restaurant that just opened up...” Matt answers anyways, humming softly as he tries not to laugh at Enigma’s pathetic attempt to break free. He could easily if he truly wanted to, but Enigma wouldn’t and Matt knew it. It was a pride thing at this point, of a man who didn’t want to admit he liked to be held.

There’s only a grunt in response, Enigma eyeing his partially built...whatever it was. He wanted to keep working but, he did agree to go out with Matt earlier. Enigma never liked to go out, but Matt did, and Enigma was trying to be better for him. Which meant he’d have to do some things he didn’t like to do.

Sensing Enigma’s reluctance, Matt moves his arms and clasps his hands over Enigma’s, using one to gently pull the tool Enigma had been using from his bandaged fingers and set it to the side. There’s no resistance from the engineer, only shrugging off his taller companion as it was fully able to squirm from Matt’s grasp and stand up from his seat, yet his other hand still remained loosely in Matt’s hold. There’s a raise of an eyebrow as Enigma wriggles out of his grasp, Matt somewhat disappointed in the now distance between them, but curls his fingers around Enigma’s even tighter as if to hold the slippery shark in place and keep him from fleeing from him again.

“I need to go find my nice clothes, then I’ll be ready.” Enigma uses his free hand to rub at his temple, unsure where he put those things he hated wearing so much. He often wore his usual tank top and baggy pants, complete with a lab coat ripped at the sleeves, it was comfortable and loose, not stuffy like those suits he often wore when being with Matt. Yet Enigma suffered through it for Matt’s sake, anyone else and he wouldn’t have given a damn if he looked like a disgruntled mess. But Matt was, well Matt, and Enigma...didn’t want to lose him again.

As Enigma moves to go locate his change of clothes, Matt quietly watches him begin to leave, letting Enigma pull his hand before it drops away. Matt flexes his fingers for a moment, observing Enigma running an exasperated hand through his hair, long tail sliding across the floor, all the while a tired frown on his face. It was clear he didn’t want to go, but he did it anyways to appease Matt’s musings. He had been for quite awhile now, putting himself out more and more for Matt’s sake...indulging in the man’s consistent whims despite his frequent complaining of them.

A smile works it’s way onto Matt’s lips, warmth blossoming in his chest as even he can see how hard Enigma had been trying- for him. For his boys. For himself. Matt held nothing but love and affection for the other man, proud of how far he had come since their college years where Enigma barely even paid attention to the people around him- let alone how they felt.

In a split-second decision, Matt’s shoes tap across the floor, hand once again suddenly grabbing hold of Enigma’s. There’s a brief wh- sound from Enigma that he doesn’t get to finish before Matt sharply tugs on his arm, pulling Enigma into his chest and then wrapping his other arm around Enigma’s waist.

“I changed my mind, let’s stay here instead~!” Matt chirps, and Enigma stares up at him blankly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“But your reservations-” Enigma mumbles, standing stiffly pressed against Matt. Not sure what to make of the position he was in now.

With a shush, Matt silences Enigma’s concerns, twirling them around in place. Enigma stumbles over being swung around, gripping onto Matt tighter as he tries not to trip over his own feet.

“What- are you doing?” He grunts, eyebrow twitching planting his feet in place to stop looking like an utter idiot as he was swung around.

“What does it look like?” Matt raises a brow, “We’re dancing!” He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet Enigma continued to stare blankly at him.

“I don’t-” Enigma fumbles his words, “I mean there’s no- music-” Not exactly what he wanted to say, still trying to formulate the proper words, “This is ridiculous.” Finally ending it with a huff.

“Do we really need music to let loose a little? C’mon Enigma lighten up!” Matt’s smile widens, giving the other man a wink which causes Enigma to turn his head away a deeper frown crossing his face (though, Matt can make out the barest hint of a flush rising to it’s cheeks).

Truthfully, Matt’s so-called whim was his way of giving back to Enigma. After all, Enigma had been going out of his way to make Matt happy, it was only fair of Matt to do the same. So if that meant they stayed in today instead of going out? That was fine by Matt, he just wanted to be with Enigma in some fashion. That doesn’t mean he won’t let Enigma off that easy however...

The smile turns into a smirk, “Oh...ooooh...don’t tell me, Mr. Creator of Idol Robots can’t dance?” Matt teases, the hint of laughter lacing his voice, Enigma tensed up immediately, tail thrashing on the floor. It appeared that Matt hit it dead on.

There’s a snort of laughter from the taller man, Enigma turning to glare up at him, “So what? Not all of us wasted time on theater, it’s not like it matters if I can’t dance or not. I never needed to know how in my line of work.” Bitterness laces his tone.

“Then I’ll teach you, right now!” Matt quickly quips right back, “It matters this second after all!” Enigma groans at that, but doesn’t pull away, knowing Matt would only keep pestering him until he gave in.

“Fine. What do I do?”

“Just follow my lead!”

Matt pulls on his hand, softer this time, guiding the engineer through the steps. Enigma tries to keep up, annoyed with himself every time he mumbles an apology for accidently stepping on Matt’s foot. Enigma eventually, tentatively, wraps his own free arm around Matt’s waist, getting more comfortable with the intimate position they were in.

“You’ve always been a quick study.” Matt jokes as they continue to twirl and spin, smiling down at Enigma who rolls his eyes. “Maybe you missed your true calling!”

“Over my dead body.” Was Enigma’s flat reply, only earning a laugh from Matt as he hoisted Enigma up for a moment the smaller man gripping tightly to Matt with wide eyes, clearly not expecting this. There’s a hiss of ‘put me DOWN’ and Matt carefully sets Enigma back down, once again leading him around the room and ignoring the bitter glare Enigma was giving him.

Matt begins to quietly a hum a tune from memory, giving the silence a musical sound to it, still leading Enigma around to the beat of his drum. Genuinely, he’s surprised Enigma is allowing him to continually tug it around, usually he wasn’t one to give up an inch...

Lost in his thoughts for a moment, he’s drug out of them as Matt feels something press into his chest, the grip on his hand getting tighter. Looking back down he could feel his heart slam in his chest as he makes note of Enigma’s head now resting on his chest, the engineer’s eyes peacefully shut and trusting Matt to continue to lead him.

Continuing to hum his tune, Matt slows down their dance for Enigma, allowing it to continue to rest, warmth blossoming through his body. Truly, he did love this grumpy little man, even if no one else understood why. But they didn’t know Enigma like Matt did, never got to experience the little moments like these.

Matt leans his head down to rest on top of Enigma’s, there’s a sigh from the engineer but nothing suggesting he minded. It wasn’t much of a dance anymore, just quietly swaying and moving back at forth to their own beat. But that was enough for them, they never really needed anything extravagant or fancy to be themselves and that is why Matt loved Enigma. For being truly and authentically himself no matter what people thought of him, even now.

Allowing his own eyes to shut, Matt thinks to himself that he wouldn’t change this moment for the world.

#asks and answers #malewifemyerz #sugars sweet treats #ocverse #magma #enigma #matt #WAHEY

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berrymeter · 4 years

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hi everyone this is my first fic be nice to me <3

in which y/n gets to bully mark tuan for free - somewhere over 1k words

It’s getting a little late, isn’t it ? You check your watch— just kidding, you don’t have one. What year is it, 2006 ? Don’t make me laugh. Rather than a clock bracelet conveniently placed around your wrist you lower your eyes to the bottom right corner of your laptop to confirm your suspicions… Ah, yes, the passage of time. You spent the entire damn afternoon scrolling through social media like some kind of zoomer-millennial-loser, again. (Chances are you’re one.) Still that doesn’t negate the fact that it is assuredly late now ; shouldn’t that passive aggressive twink-passing dude be back by now ?

Okay, it’s not that late. Just about time for dinner, the good ol’ almost-nine in the evening. Realistically you shouldn’t be complaining, you never actually have dinner with your problematic roommate nor do you eat dinner at an appropriate time yourself, but you open your notes app nonetheless and add another bullet point to your list: “Things I Get To Throw In His Face When We Have An Argument”. Build up your arsenal and release it all when the time is right, that’ll show him. An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips. Is it so hard to be punctual, after all ? He told you he’d be back by eight ! You’d planned to watch a movie together ! Not that it ever amounted to anything since an argument always broke out mid-film, but plans were nice every once in a while. You bite your bottom lip in annoyance, zoning out for a brief few seconds ( minutes ? Are you aware of time ? I’m not) as your eyes lose focus over the screen emitting all that nasty blue light, before deciding to just brush it off – at the very least, until he gets there. Once the door opens, it’s on. Some more scrolling and it gets you thinking, since your brain doesn’t have much better to do while he’s not here to get his ass jumped by you. You think. You think about how you referred to him as a “twink-passing” dude just a few paragraphs earlier. (You are currently in the mind of the narrator. I get to be y/n.) Why so ? Well, very simply, a twink would refer to a man who engages in romantic relationships with other men, or would at least be willing to. You’re unsure whether he would consider it. He sure looks like you could snap him like a twig though, so you call him a twink anyway. What’s he going to do ? Punch your kneecaps ? (Even if you are short, I, the writer, am shorter than you. I am offering you the ability to be taller than Mark Tuan. Use it wisely.) You think a little further, and think of how ‘twink’ has been used so many times as a joke, like it’s a funny insult. Is it right ? Are we not taking the term seriously enough ? You drop that train of thought soon enough. It doesn’t matter: twinks should be bullied. What convinced you of this is that twink from that NCT group, the one with the monosyllabic name. You nod to yourself. Yes, twinks should undeniably be bullied. (Note that I am a twink too, it’s okay, relax, I’m not calling for twink oppression. I mean I kinda am actually tho.) Within a few more seconds, your eyelids start to slip shut. Ah… What was that about the zoomer-millennial-loser thing ? You know it’s not easy these days to be productive, to find things you enjoy when you’re not in the right headspace, and being in the right headspace is not easy itself either. Work is tiring. You need those bucks, though. You struggle to work and then on your day off you scroll through social media. It doesn’t actually make you a loser, does it ? That’s what the bitter older generations will try to feed you, but it’s all wrong. You’re just living. Yes, you are. I’m proud of you. You made it this far ! Keep scrolling. Maybe get off Twitter though, that’s not how you’re going to make yourself feel any better in any capacity, unless your thing is pissing off ARMYs and getting terminated within the hour… The door unlocks. Your mind snaps back in. Wow, gee, at least you managed to pass time ! And it’s… yikes, you probably dozed off too during that time, because it’s past ten. An offended frown graces your features as you turn to look at that little bastard, that short fucking stick, that— “ Wha ! ” You get hit in the face with a purse… Damn, gay ass, he’s carrying a purse around now ? Wait, hold on. Why the fuck— “ Why the fuck did you do that ? ” you exclaim as you throw the purse aside. The devil’s looking at you with that passive aggressive smile of his on his face. Sickening. “ I heard what you said about Virgo men the other day, ” he responds, his voice barely hiding the pent up anger, “ and that wasn’t really nice, (y/n). We actually shower, you know ? ” “ Yeah, well, you’re gonna need to prove that, bitch boy. ” He grabs his keys and throws them in your face. Ouch, hey ! “ Stop that ! I wasn’t even lying, I— " His hand goes through his pocket while you speak and this time his phone hits your head. It’s enough. Quickly you stand, pushing your laptop aside and throwing the phone right back in his face… but it’s too late. He’s seen it. Your laptop. He gets a flash from the past ; years ago, when he was just a young Virgo man navigating this cruel world, although the world was at his fingertips by virtue of being a FUCKING Virgo man (tells you a lot about why the world is cruel), back when he met that so, so young Taurus boy, and he grabbed his laptop… You notice his glare. Your eyes narrow, and before you can yell out “No” he’s leaping for your laptop, grabbing it and holding onto it tight as you try to pry it from his hands. “ Let it go or I’m calling Jaybee ! “ the words shoot right out of your mouth. “ You think I’m scared of that catboy ? He showers even less than me ! ” “ Did you just admit to not showering ? Fucking nasty ! Go shower, stinky ! ” He roars in response, but it’s really embarrassing because he’s not a lion in any way, shape or form. He is, fortunately, very much human. You move your foot to rest it on his back (picture it: he’s on his stomach, across the couch, holding onto your laptop. So it is possible for you to rest your foot on his back). You put a little pressure on it, and his back cracks a little ; he goes “Ouch, fuck !”, and releases his grip. Yes, good, the laptop is yours (you knew that but I mean it’s in your hands again, don’t be annoying). Once again you put it aside – he uses that time to straighten himself up a little – but you have no mercy. You rush to the fridge as he follows suit, grab the bottle of milk, open it and throw it in his face. “ Jesus Christ, dude ! ” he yells out, completely inconsiderate of whether or not you’d like to be addressed as such. Don’t forget: as hot as he may be, he is a Virgo man. He does not care about you. Stop loving him right now. “ Guess you’re gonna have to shower for real this time, ” you comment, the satisfaction of this battle you just won seeping through your words. “ Fucking loser, lmao. ” “ Fuck you, (y/n). ” “ You look stupid as hell right now. Boo! Take a shower, you and your crusty musty ass ! That’s what you get for making me wait two hours ! You can’t even find the beat though, I guess you couldn’t find where to read the time on your phone. ” The court jester known as Mark Tuan proceeds to exit the scene under these humiliating claims, wiping some of the milk off his face with his milk-drenched shirt. “ Ew, ” is what you have to say to that. “ I beg you to shut your mouth right now, ” he responds from the bathroom.

But you don’t shut up. You’ve got your list, after all. You come closer to the bathroom door and lean against it, opening your handy dandy notes app – it's actually a Drive file so you can open it both on your laptop and your phone, handy dandy ! – and beginning to go through it all. " You remember when we moved in together and you stubbed your toe ? You thought I wouldn't notice how you blamed me for stubbing your toe on YOUR table that I hadn't even touched, and just casually didn't do any chores the next week ? Or the time I asked you to not touch my food and you went and ate all of it without even thinking about it, the time you threw my phone away because you thought it was too old and cheap to still be used by someone... Or worst of all, the time you said Zuko wasn't a 'compelling' or 'well-written' character, and that you found the Joker much more relatable... " " Go away ! " He kind of sounds like a child, not as in cute but as in immature for a grown ass man, and next thing you hear is the sound of rushing water. He's actually showering ? Damn, guess all that bullying paid off at the end of the day ! You smile to yourself but in an evil way. “ What a fucking embarrassing manlet lol, “ you mutter to yourself. Your job here is done (for now). All is well in the world. You go sit back on the couch, grab your laptop again, and browse AO3 for self-insert fics where you help Jinyoung and Jaebum hide their relationship by being Jinyoung’s beard. No way you’d get that close to Jaebum even in the dreamscape ; Mark was kinda right about him not showering…

#perth.txt #perth writes bullshit for fun #it's a masterpiece <3

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juno-but-not-steel · 4 years

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Tim Appreciation Week Day Four: AU

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing: Jontim

Word Count: 1555

Tim sighed as he looked out at the countryside rushing past. He was on his way to visit his brother Danny, who had moved up to Edinburgh last year. The hypnotic pattern of the rolling green hills made him sleepy, so he turned his eyes away, and fixed them on the man sitting across from him.

He was probably around Tim’s age, but looked absolutely knackered. His clothes were dull shades of brown and green, and they hung loose on his too thin frame. His green eyes would have been striking, if not for the haze that clouded them and the deep bags that made them appear sunken. His shoulder length hair was tangled and streaked with grey, pulled losely back at the nape of his neck. Tim shouldn’t have been attracted to this rat of a man, but somehow was.

He got out his phone, plugged in his headphones, and put his music on shuffle. He opened the message app to text Danny.

Tim: On my way!

Danny: Great! Can’t wait to see you!

Tim: Rides pretty boring. There’s this kind of cute guy sitting across from me tho

Danny: Ooo send a pic!

Tim attempted to sneakily take a picture, but the man seemed too involved to notice anything Tim did. He snapped a quick photo, trying to make it as flattering as possible, and sent it to Danny.

Danny: Kind of dumpster chique if you ask me, but you do you bro

Tim: Yeah, he is a little ratty lmao. Still, I think he’s cute.

Tim closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, turning down the volume on his music. He turned to the window again, and let the rolling hills lull him to sleep.

Not half an hour could have passed before the train came to a screeching halt, jerking Tim awake.

“What the hell?” He groaned, blinking his eyes open.

The man across from him stayed quiet, but appeared just as annoyed as Tim.

“Passengers, please stay in your compartments,” a voice said over the loudspeaker. “The engine has failed, and it will take some time to fix it. Please stay out of the hallways as much as possible, and staff members will bring around food from the dining car.” The intercom clicked off, and they were left in silence.

Tim groaned and leaned his head on the window, pulling out his phone to text Danny.

“Shit, no service,” he muttered.

“You can use mine, if you need to,” the other man said. His voice was soft and low, and Tim found himself even more attracted to him. “I’ve got service.”

“Cheers,” Tim said as the man handed over his phone. He couldn’t stop himself from sneaking glances at him as he typed in Danny’s number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Danny,” Tim said. “It’s Tim.”

“Hey! What’s up?”

“The train broke down, they’re saying it’ll take a while to fix.”

“Aw, that sucks man!”

“Yeah, and I don’t have any service, either,” Tim sighed. “So, if you need to get a hold of me, call this number.”

“Yeah, who’s phone is this anyways?”

Tim glanced at the man across from him. He was staring out at the countryside, completely oblivious. “It’s my compartment mate’s.”

“Ooo, that cute guy you were telling me about?” Danny teased, and Tim could hear him laughing. He snickered a bit too.

“Yep, that’s the one. Gotta go now, bye!” Tim hung up as Danny protested. He chuckled as he handed back the phone.

“Thanks,” the guy mumbled.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, but Tim quickly got bored.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sorry?”

“Your name. What is it? We’re gonna be here for a while, might as well get to know each other,” He added.

“Jon,” the man said, and turned back to the window.

“I’m Tim.”

“I know. I heard you say on the phone.”

Tim snorted. This obviously wasn’t going anywhere. He plugged his headphones back in and just sat, listening to his music. Eventually, a staff member came around with food for them. A salad and roll each. Tim ate his ravenously, but Jon barely touched his, just pushing it around with his fork. He frowned, and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. It wasn’t any of his business if Jon had poor eating habits.

Hours passed, the sun started to sink, and the voice came on the intercom again.

“This is taking us longer than expected. Luckily, this train is used for overnight journeys, so you will find that your seats fold out into cots. So sorry for the inconvenience, hopefully we will be running again soon.”

Tim sighed, and went about converting his seat into a small, hard pull out cot, and layed down. Jon was still staring out the window.

“Did you hear the guy on the loudspeaker?”

“Hm?” Jon hummed absentmindedly and turned slowly to look at Tim. His green eyes were quite striking, even with the dark bags, Tim thought.

“Your seat turns into a cot.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.”

Tim turned his eyes to the ceiling, and heard Jon shuffling around across the small room. A few minutes passed, and Jon made a small, embarrassed cough.

“Could you help me? I can’t seem to figure it out.”

Tim stood up, humming in assent, and walked over to Jon. He was standing right in front of the latch, but didn’t seem to realize.

Tim was about a foot away from Jon, and realized that he was at least six inches taller than the other man. Jon looked up at Tim, slightly confused, and the latter could see flecks of gold in Jon’s green eyes. Tim’s eyes drifted down to his lips, almost unconsciously, and he just barely stopped himself from kissing Jon. That was really too forward, even for Tim.

“So, are you going to help me, or just stand there?” Jon was blushing.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Tim could feel his own blush creep up his neck and spread across his face. “You’re standing in front of the mechanism.”

Jon mumbled an apology and stepped out of the way, head down. Tim reached under the seat and pulled the lever, converting the seat into an exact copy of his cot. Tim awkwardly walked back over to his side, and Jon sat down across from him again.

“You really should eat something,” Tim said, and then cursed himself internally. Why was he so worried?

“‘M not hungry,” Jon muttered.

“Suit yourself,” considered Tim, who went back to staring at the ceiling.

Night fell and the moon rose, sending silver rays of light through the window of the compartment. Tim found himself staring at Jon’s sleeping form in the soft light.

The moonlight softened his features that were so pinched during his waking hours, and he looked so peaceful. The grey streaks were illuminated in his tangled hair, and Tim found himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers through that mess, smoothing it out till it flowed like silk. He clenched his jaw and turned away.

He barely knew Jon. He could count the number of words they exchanged on his hands. He most likely didn’t like guys, Tim didn’t have luck that good. And yet…

The room went dark as a huge cloud covered the moon, plunging Tim’s vision into almost complete blackness. A thunderstrike boomed, so loud it rattled the luggage rack above the window. Tim thought he saw Jon flinch, but couldn’t be sure.

Rain came down in sheets, pinging off of the metal roof of the train. Tim grumbled, it was way too loud for him to sleep. A bolt of lightning lit up the small compartment, followed by an even louder thunderbolt that Tim felt in his bones. This time, Jon definitely flinched. Tim turned to look at Jon, who was sat up, curled into the corner with his face buried in his knees.

“Jon?” Tim asked softly.

Jon lifted his head, eyes open and locked on Tim. His face was stained with tearstained, but he made no sound.

“Are you okay?”

Jon laughed dryly. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” He rasped.

“Do you want a hug, or something?” Tim asked, unsure. He never was good at comforting people.

Jon stayed quiet for a second, and Tim was about to rescind his offer with a snide comment, when Jon sniffed and nodded. Tim stood up, and went to sit next to Jon, pulling him into his side.

Jon snuggled into Tim’s side, resting his head on Tim’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Jon whispered quietly. “It’s hard for me to accept help, but thank you.”

Tim smiled down at him. “Of course. I love a good cuddle.”

Jon chuckled, and stilled. Tim was just about to fall asleep, when he piped up again.

“Tim?”

“Yeah, Jon?”

Jon was silent for so long, that Tim almost fell back to sleep.

“When we get to Edinburgh, do you want to get coffee with me?”

Tim started, and thought he was dreaming at first. He looked down at Jon, who was looking back up at him, eyes wide and hopeful.

Tim smiled. “I would love that.”

“Great,” Jon said, muffled by oncoming sleep. “I look forward to it.”

Tim didn’t answer, however, because he was already asleep.

Sorry these are all a day off, I missed one day and it’s all off balance now. Gonna try and fix it today :)

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #tma podcast #timappreciationweek #timothy stoker #tma tim #tim stoker #jontim

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all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 5 years

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Not Sorry ~ Embry Call (Part 1)

A/n: Oop look I'm not dead HAHAHHAHA! Anyway.... here we go, my BABY!!! I tried to keep this one part but I mean look how long I got. It was a hard no lmao. It should only be two parts though so I'll finish that up and then be done with the mini series! Hope you enjoy all the loopty loops and around and back and forth as much as I did.

Word Count: 6900+

Pairings: Jacob x reader, Embry x reader, Embry x Quil (mentioned)

MASTERLIST

The two of us left the Swan house hand-in-hand. Jake looked at me, next to him, with a deep frown. "What's wrong?" He asked.

I looked over, my undeniably sour expression breaking as my eyes landed on him. A weak smile lifted onto my face, my mood lightening just by seeing my boyfriend's face. "I was just thinking maybe it isn't helping by having us both come in. I know it's helping to have me at school with her, and you hanging out afterward, but..." I shrugged. "Did you are the way she looked at us when you held my hand in the car?"

Jake looked at his feet, nodding a little. "I get it," he finally said. "But I don't want to mess up how we do things just to-" he cut off, his jaw working. Jake had had a brief crush on Bella, leading him to hang around the house a lot. That was how we got together. We'd seen each other plenty of times since I'd always been close with the Swans. Bella and I had played as kids, since my mom and Charlie were on really great terms. There were rumors she had feelings for Charlie at one point but that never panned out- obviously. Now, I just visited on weekends to check in so he didn't get too lonely. It had become habit after my mom died. My dad was absent minded, tending to work and otherwise ignore me. Charlie and I were similar in that way: alone, unless we had each other.

With Bella's presence came a greater need for me. I helped her settle and helped Charlie adapt to having to be a dad to a girl my age, instead of a friend like he was with me. Bella and I vibed the same way Charlie and I did; we formed a friendship pretty quickly. With Bella came Jake, and with Jake came feelings. He was a year younger than me, so I hadn't been too keen on it at first, but Bella met Edward and then began to grow distant and then Jake caught feelings for me too, so things kind of just took off.

Now Jake and I were together and Edward and Bella... weren't. He had moved and she was absolutely crushed. From what I knew he had cut off everything between them... honestly, I couldn't even begin to imagine her pain.

I looked at him, my lips pressed together. "I know how you feel, but we have to think about her feelings too." He glared at his feet. He hated Edward to this day, even more now that he had left Bella the way he had than he did before when the only bad thing he'd done was 'steal' Bella from him- something that had begun to wear off as Jake and I continued to be together. Maybe the two boys could have been friends if Edward hadn't hurt Bella like this. I pulled him to a stop, pushing away how Jacob's hate for Edward made me once again wonder about how he felt for me and Bella - he had said a few times that he was completely over her but sometimes I still wondered - to focus on the discussion at hand. "I can't imagine how terrible it is to lose someone that you-" I looked into his eyes and felt suddenly breathless. "That you love." His lips twitched and I wasn't sure if it was a smile or a frown that he'd almost manifested, which made me nervous. "I just mean, I can't imagine how she feels. We have to be sensitive and even though I hate censoring our relationship a bit as much as you do, I also want her to be able to escape thoughts and memories and she can't do that when faced with a couple, because any couple and all loving relationships remind her of him."

He sighed through his nose and then moved close, his nose brushing mine. My eyes fluttered close and my body relaxed, sagging a little.

"Okay." As he spoke, I could hear his smile. He paused a second and then kissed me and suddenly I was smiling too. We were next to his truck, out of sight of the house, and I was thankful that neither of us had to stop this moment to spare Bella. When he pulled away, I was left breathless. He leaned close, his lips brushing the skin on my ear as he whispered as quietly as he could, "Do you love me?"

I never went so rigid so fast while being in as relaxed a state as I was in so soon before. The ease I'd had just a split second before disappeared as if I didn't know what relaxation was and my eyes shot wide. "I- well- I- um- I-"

He chuckled softly and I stopped breathing altogether. I had leaned away when he'd spoken so he moved back to where he was before, pressing against me. His fingers brushed against and fidgeted with mine comfortingly. "I love you too." He left a soft kiss against my neck and I shivered as he leaned away, looking at me through his eyelashes even though he was just a bit taller than me. He reached out, touching my cheek. "And I promise I'll never never do to you what he did to her. I'm here, forever and always."

A grin broke out on my face and I burst into giggles. My hands reached up, fingers curling around the back of his neck. I pulled him into a hug and he was laughing too, tilting as I leaned too much. We scrambled to catch ourselves, neither of us strong enough to catch ourselves as we went careening as my excitement threw off our balance. I took a breath in and he smelled amazing. He was warm and his smile light up the whole world and warmed my insides. It was the happiest I'd ever been and when I went home that night I went to sleep sure it wouldn't be the last time I was that happy, in Jacob's arms. For just a second I was sure of eternity.

Much later, Bella got a lot better and there was no pressure to censor our relationship in front of her. A few times she would put our hands together, winking and laughing and teasing and nudging us and talking about how cute we were and how nice it was to see us so happy. I think she lived a little through us as much as she used our love and success to distract her from her own pain so she could separate herself from it and grow without it there to hurt her. Jake became her best friend and I became her sister, is talking about things she couldn't with Jake, as well as me being over more often since I was closer and also had a closer relationship with Charlie, directly. She gave each of us the "I'll kill you if you hurt them" talk and joked about chaperoning dates if we started acting like we were being "naughty". She basically became my mom more than anything and I jokingly called her that constantly. That's how the parent-besties joke was born. Since Jake and Bella were best friends the same way Charlie and I were best friends, and now there was a running joke that Bella was my mom, Jake and I started calling Bella and Charlie the parent-besties. Every time Jake or I struggled with homework or school in general or family or friends or Jake brought up Sam - the leader of a gang on the Reservation that set Jake and Quil (his friend) on edge - or Embry - Quil's ex-best friend and therefore also someone who used to be a close friend of Jake's but who ditched them when he joined Sam's gang - or any other stresses came up, Charlie and Bella would team up to figure out what was wrong if we wouldn't talk about it, or figure out how to distract or cheer us up. They'd first bump and jokingly say, "Activate parent friend powers" and if Jake or I were around we would laugh and they would grin and wiggle their eyebrows.

It was like a little family. Jake would come over with Billy every Sunday night and Jake would pick me up on the way so the three of us would jam out and crack jokes and Billy and I would team up to tease Jake as we drove over, and then when we got to the house, Jake and Bella would impersonate Billy and Charlie poorly while Billy and I jokingly argued who was Billy's truest best friend and Jake and I would flirt over the table and Charlie and Bella would pretend to gag and roll their eyes and groan and call us gross. The more we hung out the closer I got not only to them but the people they cared about. I met Quil and the two boys began to teach me how to work on cars and related such things. Quil absolutely loved to give me piggyback rides and wrestle me while Jake usually took the lead on teaching me mechanics. For the first time in my entire high school career I actually held a lasting conversation with Bella's friends, Eric, Angela, Mike, and Jessica. I was the weirdo in town who talked to no one and always sat alone in every class and worked alone in every group activity. At this points even teachers had given up- at least the Cullens even had each other. Before Bella, I had no one. Now I had so many people it was nearly overwhelming.

Just as my life was reaching perfection, it came crashing down in a rain of fire and brimstone.

It started, weirdly enough, with something good. One day I hadn't talked to Jake in a full week so when he popped up at my house because I'd been telling him how much I was struggling with homework - I was too proud to go to Bella for help - so he'd found some free time and had gotten permission to come and help me. I'd run at him, completely meaning to tackle him. Except, he caught me instead and fully lifted me off my feet, spinning me around before kissing me hard. It was a wonderful feeling that had my head spinning and left me a little nauseous... but also, it shouldn't have happened. Jake wasn't weak but last I checked he was barely strong enough to catch Bella when she lost her footing, or push me off when I was pinning him to the ground so he couldn't move at all. After that, I noticed that not only was he a lot stronger than I remembered, he was also growing insanely taller and hotter. Like, temporaries wise. We couldn't lay under blankets anymore because it came hard to breathe very quickly.

It all climaxed when Bella set up a group hang out to go to horror movie. Jessica, Eric, and then Angela all bailed so it was just me, Bella, Jake, and Mike. With me and Jake joking and flirting especially hard, Bella was left to third wheel... with Mike, who was only too enthusiastic to sweep her off her feet and win her heart, just like he'd been trying to do since the first day she'd come to town.

At the end of what was supposed to be a group hang out, Bella was obviously at her wit's end. I decided to turn to Mike, glaring at him, hands on my waist. "Can you lay off?" He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. It was during the movie and he'd tried to distract himself from the movie by flirting with Bella but it wasn't working. I'd finally lost my patience.

"What's wrong? Jealous?" He joked.

I heard Jake next to me make a noise that raised the hair on the back of my neck. He growled. I shook my head to clear it and then turned my frustration to him. I stood, motioning Bella to take my place. She was only too eager to do so, leaving me between Mike and Bella... which meant that I was next to Mike instead of next to Jake, who was separated from me by Bella.

By the end of the movie, Jake was obviously as much losing his ability to keep his mouth shut as I was. Mike had long gone quiet but before that he'd tried to make jokes and talk to me and I was completely tired of him. Bella reaches over and took my hand, squeezing it in both apology and thanks. I shot a small smile at her. As Mike ran off to blow chunks after the movie ended, Jake pulled me against him. He leaned against the wall, his hands on my stomach and my back against his chest, his chin on top of my head. Bella talked to me as he stayed quiet, letting us girls go back and forth as we waited for Mike.

When he came out he tried to play cool, putting an arm around Bella after eyeing up me and Jake. "Let's head out." Bella moved away from Mike so his arm dropped and I smirked. As if to run it in, Jake moved next to me so he could put his arm across my choosers as Mike had just tried with Bella. I didn't stop him. That seemed to piss Mike off. "You're really attached at the hip, aren't you?" the blonde, pale with sickness boy shot off.

"I obviously don't mind my boyfriend being on me," I replied smoothly. "Unlike other people who might be averted to having a boy on them in this sort if they're not either close or dating." Jake snorted in my ear.

Mike made a mistake and caught Jake's shoulder, turning him so they were facing each other and pulling us apart. We had started walking past him so I kept going while Mike pulled Jake back. Immediately Jake smacked Mike's hands away from him, flaring with anger. I turned to see Bella pushing between them, trying to calm down a much taller, stronger, angrier Jake and a cowardly Mike who was trying to backpeddle and failing. "Don't touch me," Jake finalized, pointing at the other boy. "And for that matter, stop touching Bella and stop looking at my girlfriend. Stop being an ass, stop talking in general." He turned abruptly and pushed past all of us. I turned to go after him, catching his hand, but he yanked himself away. It wasn't hard as I let go of him almost immediately- his skin was burning. It had beeb warm all night but now it almost hurt to touch. I wat he's him go, speechless and unsure.

Mike, apparently still having not learned his lesson, moved next to me. "Seems like an ass to me."

Bella had to drive because Mike was half blinded by a black eye. Charlie picked us up from there. Mike's last stab was the last thing said of the night.

It had been weeks. No calls, no texts, no visiting. Nothing. He was completely ignoring me and I couldn't understand why. The few times Bella or I had gotten an answer from the Black house was when Billy picked up. He gave us some lame excuse about how he was super sick and couldn't get out of bed and couldn't have visitors and that was that.

Bella was pacing in front of my house, having dragged me outside to demand we go visit Jake and get some answers. She was trying to get me to go with her, but I wasn't confrontational. On top of my already timid, anxious nature, I hadn't been getting good sleep, unable to get my brain to quiet or my heart to calm or my tears to stop as I quietly sobbed in bed. As the days passed I began to think more and more that this was a Bella-Edward situation and the day that Jacob had first told me he loved me and the promise that had followed it echoed on repeat in my mind.

He promised he wouldn't leave me. Ditch me. He promised, forever and always.

Bella wasn't having it. "Come on I'll drive!"

Neither was I though. "If he's really that sick then whatever, he doesn't want guests. Okay. If he just doesn't want me around..." I shrugged. "It's been WEEKS, Bells. The Jake we know and love would have shot me a call at this point even if it would have killed him. After how he brushed me off, I just feel like something more is wrong than just some fever." I sighed heavily. "This is a choice. I can FEEL IT. He's actively making a choice to cut me off. If I'm wrong then he'll come to me eventually. If not..." I looked helplessly at my hands. "I can't force someone to be in my life." I looked back at her.

She must have seen herself in my face because she lost all the color in her face and stumbled away. I went to love to her but she held a hand up. I froze as she took a second to catch her breath and think. "Okay," she said finally. She looked at me and nodded. "I can respect that. But I'm going to his house, without or with you."

Another sigh slipped from me. "I can't stop you," I said as I shrugged, my hands moving through the air, palms facing the sky. We exchanged one more look before she left too and I went back upstairs. Bella would figure it out and bring me news. It would all be sorted when she came back; I had nothing to worry about. I fell into a restful sleep with ease for the first time in weeks, and it was absolute bliss.

"WHAT?" I shot to my feet, eyes wide and mouth open.

Bella couldn't meet my eyes. "He's... gay." She looked awkward and I knew she wasn't telling me the truth, which hurt even more.

"Bella, you're a terrible liar," I accused.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "He's probably going to break up with you. I can't tell you why, it's too hard to explain. But I think you two should talk in person and sort it all out." She looked so tired and wrung out that I didn't even argue. I just silently nodded. She stood and we both went out to her car. She drive us to Jake's and then had to kick me out of the car for me to head to the house. He could break up with me, she'd said. He might want to. Why? What had I done wrong? Was he in love with someone else? Had he simply just fallen out of love with me? WAS he gay? Was there some huge secret he was keeping from me that lead him to feel guilty and pull away from me? Oh my god had he cheated on me? Not even with someone he loved but simply someone that was around more than I was. Someone prettier or smarter or more like him than I was. Or maybe he was secretly a terrible person and the person I'd fallen in love wasn't real. Maybe this was all an act. A game. My brain was racing with too many improbable and dramatic probabilities to make sense of anything so I just forced myself to push it all down and knock on the door before I could overthink it and stop myself.

Jake answered the door. I gasped at him. He was in a tank top and short, not things I'd ever seen him wear before. His hair was shorn completely short where it had been SO much longer before, and- was that a tattoo on his arm.

Our eyes locked and he sucked in a breath-

And then let it out, his shoulders sagging as if... disappointed. My eyebrows came together. "Jake?" I choked out, the word dry and quiet. It was almost a croak. It sounded like my mouth was completely dry, even as I choked on words and tears that were only too ready to fall. I knew what was coming by the look on his face before he even opened his mouth. I knew him too well.

"Look, I-"

"Stop," I managed to get out. I looked at my feet, my hands shaking in my peripheral vision and my eyes watering. "Don't-" I tried again. "Don't continue." I swallowed, trying to pull myself together and catch my breath. Suddenly I went incredibly numb and I managed to look at him with what I assume to be dead eyes and an empty smile. He looked sick to his stomach at my expression. "Bella warmed me that when she brought me here you might break up with me." I tried to make my smile bigger but my lip started quivering so I stopped. "I understand. Things change. People drift apart. Forever never lasts as long as it's supposed to." Jake mad es look like he'd been run over by a semi truck. i knew without even asking that he was remembering his promise too. His lips parted but no noise came out. He just stared at me, lost and heartbroken, and I couldn't understand why because HE was doing this so obviously he wanted to, right? "you-" I cut off, my eyes finally focusing. I finally saw HIM for the first time. Something clicked in my head and my numbness wore off to a subtle emptiness as my smile swapped out for a frown, my eyebrows coming together in irritation as I tilted my head. "You joined Sam's gang, didn't you?"

Finally he found his voice. "Sam's not at all like I thought he was. He's actually helping me, so much. I owe him a lot. He's-"

"Oh my god," I whispered.

I stumbled back and he scrambled forward to try and catch me but I yanked away from him, out of his reach. Behind me the truck door slammed, signaling Bella coming to the house to help. "Are you okay?" She began.

Spinning to face her, I shoved a finger in her face accusingly. "YOU!" I screamed. She jerked back, eyes wide as she stood, unsure. "You knew! 'It's complicated'? God, Bella! You know how scared of Sam Jake is!" I looked back at him, my lip curling into a snarl. "Was." I looked back at her. "What and now you're pro-sam too?"

"He's-" Bella began.

"STUFF IT!" I screamed. "I don't know why you even brought me here! What, to see Jacob break up with me in person? So he could break his promise officially? So he could pull a full Edward and twist the knife already in my gut?" At the mention of the Cullen's name she visibly flinched away from me. I was too angry to care. "FINE!" I screamed hysterically. "Break up with me! Don't even bother trying to keep being my friend Bella. I bet you realize you still have feelings for her after all, huh? All those promises..." I laughed sickly and the two most important people in my life looked at me like I was the villain. As if I had hurt them. "Fuck you." I turned away and began walking.

"Oh come on, where are you going?" Bella called.

"You can't walk home from here!" Jacob added.

"FUCK! YOU!" I screamed over my shoulder. "I'm no longer your concern!" I turned around so I was looking at them, walking backwards. "So have you ditched Quil too then?" I looked directly at Jake, who flinched as horribly as Bella just had. I shook my head, turning away and taking off running. I knew where I was going now.

I hoped to high heaven Quil was home and didn't mind if I spent the night, because there really was no way I was getting back tonight.

Long story, he didn't. We ended up spending every second we could together, watching movies and wrestling and exchanging puns and pick up lines and never talking about Jake and Bella, and Embry, who Quil brought up the first night to let me know how he felt. Apparently Quil and Embry had been a lot closer than I'd originally realized before everything had been messed up when Embry had joined Sam's pack. With us only having each other, we cling to each other. We almost finally healed and settled with our friendship when suddenly Quil was gone too.

We worked all that time to get me a license and then work and put our brains together to fix up the very old car I'd found for cheap as best we could without Jake. I drove by one day to show off the finished and completed product... only to have Quil answer the door with short hair, the same tattoo on his shoulder that Jake had when he'd answered the door to me what seemed FOREVER ago, in a muscle shirt and cut off shorts. Neither of us even had to say anything. He just looked at me with the most apologetic look I'd ever seen and I turned away, getting in my car and going home. Halfway I pulled to the side of the road to break down. I'd begun to get over Jake, but I was in no way over how much I missed Bella, and the huge hole in my life that had been created by losing Charlie was simply too much to bear.

I honestly should have seen it coming. It had been the same thing that I'd seen happen to Ake and heard had also happened to Embry. He grew warmer, taller, stronger. Then, our f nowhere, he broke fever and got insanely sick so that he couldn't talk to me for four whole days. Finally he called to let me know he was better and that I could come over. The call was brief and I'd blindly, desperately hoped with all my soul that he just wanted to see me after all that time. We'd grown to be really great friends, going on adventures and creating a completely different friendship than either of us had had before with anyone. We were just so chill. No promises or forever imagining, but an unspoken understanding that we both hated the same people and enjoyed almost all of the same things. We had inside jokes and had made memories hiking and swimming and doing homework and preparing each other for upcoming tests and in general being each other's wingmen, more joking about setting each other up than anything since we both knew neither of us were ready or interested in doing that quite yet.

Now he was gone. Like Jake. Like Bella. like Charlie. Like Edward and Embry. Like my mom. Like my dad sink after. I was completely alone, empty, with a distant father and more often an empty house than anything.

I'd gotten obsessed with mechanics, picking it up as a hobby to distract myself from my emotions. I hadn't really gotten into much else and the physical tiring the fixing things up required of me as I hefted and cranked and pulled and jimmied and all such related physically demanding things tired me out and kept my brain busy. With my only talent having been given to me by Jake, I was left to blast music to tune out any memory or thought the activity could dig up. If I wasn't snagging old bikes and cars and such things and then re-selling them in much better condition then I was cleaning and babysitting. I was saving money up to move from Forks. I was planning on getting emancipated from my dad and moving away from the small town that had become my own personal Hell. I'd go somewhere else. Meet other people. Make my own family and my own home, since the paces and people I'd come across this far had failed me.

A year passed. The Cullens moved back and I saw Edward walking around the halls with Bella, which made me feel even more empty. Bella had absolutely everything and I was left completely alone. I'd finally let go of Jacob enough that he didn't haunt me. I could think and remember him and only a dull ache would resound in my chest. The release of coming to terms with being alone and getting over Jacob had allowed me to do something I hadn't done in a long time but had come to absolutely adore doing while I was dating Jake and was friends with Quil.

On Saturday's, I went to La Push. I had te same car I'd bought during my friendship with Quil, driving myself to the beach a few hours before sunset. I pulled off my pants, exposing the bottom half of the swim suit I had on underneath. I put my feet in the water and wiggles my toes in the sand. I tilted my head back so I was looking at the sky and then closed my eyes, letting my body slowly unwind. With my the shirt I always wore when I went to the beach, I walked further into the water a while after letting myself come undone and then reopening my eyes. After I was waist deep in the fairly cold water, I fully dove in. It burned and woke me up. Though it wasn't cold season quite yet, it also wasn't quite warm enough to be swimming.

When I hit the surface, I gasped and groaned, a shiver running through my body. I shook my head, blinking my eyes rapidly. A wild, loud laugh erupted from me before I began to swim to where I could touch and then back out far too much go be considered safe before I swam back to where I could touch. Back and forth, back and forth, until my body was numb enough not to feel the cold anymore. Then I closed my eyes and lay on my back, breathing evenly and focusing on staying afloat. Every thirty second or so - I kept track in my head, sometimes waiting until thirty-five or even fourty seconds if I felt really confident - I checked to make sure I wasn't too far away from shore that I couldn't get back again without tiring out and being pulled out to sea again. When I did get on the edge of too far, I pushed forward and swam back.

Halfway there was when I heard it. A huge splash that made me look over. I realized I must be pretty far away from my car, even if I wasn't far from shore. I was by the huge cliffs on the edge of La Push, close enough to make out people at the top jumping, and people at the bottom who, presumably, had already jumped. Close enough, I realized with a start, to make out faces.

First I saw Quil, of all people. My heart stopped and I almost stopped swimming, so shocked by seeing my old very good friend after over a year of time that I forgot how to move for a full second before the water in my nose quickly reminded me. Next I saw who I could only assume was Sam. He was similar to the guy I remember who'd carried Bella out of the woods what must have been two years ago now, and also fit description from what Quil and Jake had said. I looked up next, only to see who must have been Jake at the top. I was stunned most by this. Not because it hurt to see him but.... because it didn't. I felt that same dull ache and a sort of whistful longing for the joy and completeness I'd once felt, but Jake had hurt me very deeply and I'd come to terms with him being an asshole and how I deserved better. I would find someone better, if that's what I really did want for me someday. Until then, it was about me. It was about what I wanted and needed and what made me happy. Jake didn't make me happy anymore. Any good was tainted by the tattoo and the short hair and how he was shirtless despite the slight chill, in cut off shorts. He wasn't My Jake anymore. He was Jacob Black, nothing but a heart breaker and a complete stranger.

My eyes returned to the people in the water, only to immediately notice that a few of the guys were now looking at me as well. I clouding Quil who's eyes went as wide as mine were. His smile completely dropped, his expression unsure. I shook myself out of my stupor, nodding once to him before turning away and focusing on getting to shore. I was done with the beach today. It wasn't fun anymore Unlike Jake, Quil was only good memories and Sam was only the person who had stolen everything for me. It was too many mixed emotions, all intense, and it ruined my relaxation and tranquility.

I heard someone scream my name as I reached the sand, exhausted and nearly falling over. I'd gotten too used to the feeling of the water. I ignored them and everything as I quickly made my way through the sand, folding my arms over my chest as my body tensed up more than it had been when I'd come here, shaking and shivering in the cold. Another scream of my name, much closer. How had they already gotten to shore? My teeth were chattering and I continued to ignore them, even though now I could identify them as- "Quil come on. She's not interested." That was a new voice. I turned, still protective of Quil even after everything we'd been through. But it wasn't Sam.

This boy was much smaller and skinnier, even though he was also muscular and taller and bigger than most boys I'd seen my entire life. Seriously what did they feed these boys?! He had wet hair that was kind of wild and strong features. He was pretty, I won't lie. Very attractive. I felt almost pulled to him, just a little. Perhaps it was my curiosity.

Then our eyes met. The whole world seemed to freeze over and burn up at the same time. My body was both too hot and too cold, tingling and burning and flashes of weird feelings everywhere. I felt the air get knocked out of my lungs and my body released any and all tensions it had held before. I almost lost my footing completely. He did, falling to his knees. Probably because of the bigger mass he had on me.

"Whoa, Embry, you okay?" Embry. THAT was Embry? The Embry who was Quil's ex-best friend and almost lover? Who had been Quil's Jake? Who had left Quil and Jake alike to join some gang for god knows why? Got into god knows what trouble?

Very quickly, I pulled myself together and turned abruptly to take off running away from them. It was hard to run in sand so I moved to the path past the beach and then finally took off at full speed. I didn't stop until I hit my car, my lungs burning and my body weak from over exertion. I moved to the beach first to grab my bag with my pants and keys in it, moving to my car as quickly as possible to take my keys out and get in. I didn't see the guys and thought I was gone free... but then my car wouldn't start. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel for a while before collecting myself, taking hold of my emotions, and then calmly getting out and heading to the trunk where my tools were. I left my bag on the driver's seat, door open as I popped the hood and then looked through what was wrong. There was a knob loose again and I shook my head, reaching over to where my open tool box revealed a wrench that I grabbed to tighten it again and hoping hat would do the trick. I put all my remaining strength in to tightening it as much as possible before putting the wrench back in the box and then going to the driver's seat to try turning on the car again. This time it worked.

With that victory, the same rush as always filled me and the boys and the worries they brought me simply melted away as I stood up, grinning. I moved my bag to the passenger seat, moving to my hood to close up my tool box and close it before I went to put it in the trunk and leave.

Whatever I'd done had allowed the boys I thought I was sure weren't following me to catch up because as I closed my hood I immediately saw Jake and I froze stiff, my joy forgotten. How soon the face of my ex could crush my happiness in the same way that happiness had wiped my mind of him just for a blissful moment. He had his arms crossed over his chest, seeming almost... proud of me. "You kept up the whole car thing. You handled that pretty well. Pretty quickly too."

"Yeah, you started me on a path that I followed. I'm pretty good at it I think. It's kind of all I do, other than school. Don't have any friends or family to occupy my time so what else am I going to do, right?" His smile dropped at that. My expression didn't change from an emotionless, distant disinterest. He swallowed, not liking my new reaction to him. It had been a year and a half though, what did he expect? "What do you want, Black?"

He made a face like he was tasting something bitter. "Look, I just came over here because my friend said you looked hurt-"

"Embry?" I perked up and immediately tried to hide it.

He eyed me. "No..." He swallowed, shuffling like he felt physically uncomfortable suddenly. "Paul- why- why did you ask about Embry specifically?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. You guys always come here on Saturday?"

"Usually," he said slowly, after a pause.

My face scrunched in distaste. "I'll aim for Friday's and Sunday's then. See you, Jake." My expression softened. "Look, I'm over everything that happened. It was forever ago. No bad blood?"

He didn't see to like that. "Sure." Seeking hin again reminded me that he was a different body and ran with a different group, but in the end he was still the same Jake. Still tender and concerned and proud of my progression. Still my friend. Still the boy I'd fallen in love with once upon a dream. Strange. What had changed with us then, if I was the same and he was the same? Then I noticed the tiredness. He looked almost.... aged. More hesitant. Darker.

So that was it. Whatever he'd gone through HAD changed him after all. If anything, I felt bad for him. I nodded to make my leave but was only able to put my tools in the trunk and move to my driver's seat before Embry himself finally ran up, eyes wide and totally out of breath.

"Wait!" He moved quickly to the front of the car. Jake wore an expression as bewildered as ny own, so I assumed this wasn't normal. "Sorry," he scrambled to pull himself together, raising a hand to run through his wild hair. I let out a short laugh, cutting it off and covering my mouth. He was honestly gorgeous, in a totally different way than Jake was. Embry's smile was crooked and charming and kind of boyish. He was lively and goofy and put me at ease instantly. He seemed as fun as Quil but much more energetic and I was almost too ready for it. Excited. "Are you free, maybe next weekend?" He rubbed the back of his neck and I knew I was blushing. "I know this is sudden and really weird but you're really pretty and um I'll probably never see you again."

"She probably isn't interested in-"

"Sure." I didn't mean to cut Jacob off, but I'd already been about to say it when he'd begun.

He shot me an even more surprised look. "What?" He demanded.

Quil strolled up, shaking his head. "SMOOTH, Embry. Honestly you're a disaster."

That knocked me out of my weird train of thought. Embry. Embry who was Quil's. Right? Embry who was part of Sam's gang. Sam who had taken everyone from me, including Jake, who was also probably one of Embry's best friends again now that they were in the gang together and up to who knows what. Trouble. This boy was nothing but trouble.

While Jake busies himself looking between me, Embry, and Quil, I pulled myself together. "Sorry, no." Embry seemed surprised by that. Fair, as he'd gotten an enthusiastic yes from me just seconds before. I smiled politely. "I'm sorry- Embry was it?" He nodded. "I'm not interested. I'm not in the dating scene right now and even if I was, I don't think whatever you're looking for is with me."

As I went to get in, he scrambled to stop me. "No you don't understand!" He was suddenly very close and it was incredibly distracting. "I know what you must think of Sam and the rest of us, but I promise you you're actually EVERYTHING I'm looking for. Specifically."

I was genuinely stunned. "Uh... excuse me?"

Forever Tag List: @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21 @captainxholmes @bitchyseawitch @justanotherdaydreamersoul

#taylor lautner #embry call #kiowa gordon #jacob black #wolf pack #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #twilight #imagine #imagines #x reader

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insomniblaque · 4 years

Link

I’ve been thinking about romantic love for a little while now. Well, mostly romantic, but in general I’ve been contemplating my relationship with men and where love fits in those relationships. I’ll be honest, romantic love hasn’t manifested itself in the way I’ve seen other people experience it. I’ve never been in a mutual relationship with someone I’d call a partner, I haven’t been intimate with a person long enough for that part of a relationship to materialize, and I’ve been thinking a lot about why that is, and the role I’ve had in perpetuating that experience. When I was first trying to learn what love was supposed to look like, around middle school I’d say, I wanted to blame myself and relatively superficial factors based on some of my most intimate insecurities — how I felt about my body, my skin, my hair as the reasons why boys didn’t come flocking to me. I blamed things that are uniquely tied to what I looked like. The way I saw love being expressed to other girls — girls who were taller, lighter, skinnier, with less acne molded my expectation of what men wanted and fueled the insecurities I had because they seemed to be everything I wasn’t. While these thoughts existed and played a role in how closed off I was to the idea of professing my intense like for men, they didn’t stay for long, mainly because of the relationships I had with men at that time. My father always made it a point to affirm my worth. My father loved my smile, my gap, my violet gums, my cheeks and voice and never forgot to remind me of how special and beautiful I am. He would jest about when I would bring a boy home often because “there was no way they weren’t asking to approach me” because I look the way I do. My friendships with mostly boys around that time also offset some of that insecurity because I had friends who not only valued me as a person but appreciated me for things I didn’t necessarily notice in myself like my wit, sense of humor, ability to listen and call them out on their shit.

Over the years, I’ve gone through different phases of trying to redefine my insecurities for myself but ultimately so that I wouldn’t let these self limiting beliefs stand in the way of the potential relationships I could develop. It started with my face. The ugly duckling years of middle school prompted my first interests in learning about makeup so that I could distract people from what I didn’t want them to see. It evolved into a genuine appreciation of the art and eventually a form of therapy for me. I loved beautifying myself for me -- a stray compliment (though I didn’t know how to accept them) also contributed to the boost in dopamine but ultimately, it was the agency of being able to do something only I knew how to do at the time that added to my confidence. Next was my hair, I think I was the most insecure about that for the longest time. My sister always had thicker, longer hair than me and my worth — especially in a deeply Caribbean household felt tied to how manageable and beautiful I could be and hair was the first indicator of that. When relaxed, my hair was thin, uneven, and barely scraped my shoulders. In high school, after having skipped a couple of relaxer sessions before the first day of my sophomore year, I chopped it all off with kitchen scissors. I remember wanting to see if I could feel beautiful without hair and that would be the “social experiment”. Learning to love the hair that grew out of my head at any stage and detaching the value of my beauty from it was not what I thought I was doing that day at 15, but looking back my confidence grew over time from this dissociation. I was just a year and a half early from the boom of natural hair journeys and big chops of that era (yes, if you haven’t noticed I am ahead of my time in a lot of ways lmao) where other women and girls were also expanding their definitions of self-love via their hair and that also made me feel more confident that I can be all of myself around anyone. Hair no longer was a contributing insecurity for me. Recently, I did another dramatic chop, rooted more in an existential crisis, but it also kind of reminded me of the first — how I could still see myself as beautiful without relying on the factors that are called conventionally beautiful. Last, was my body. I had been prone to unhealthy habits rooted in my poor body image for as long as I could remember like restricting meals, unsustainable diets, even at one point abusing drugs (long story) to try to shave off of a few pounds or to try to find the semblance of abs under all my stomach fat. This insecurity was the hardest to shake. Looking at old pictures of myself these days baffles me because when I was trying my hardest to lose weight, I was probably at my skinniest. I didn’t begin redefining my body image until I got to college and needed to find a way to curb the freshman 15. A friend introduced to weightlifting our freshman year and all I can remember is how powerful it made me feel. The simple movements of a squat or a deadlift wasn’t what brought the thrill, it was the amount of weight I could hold in my hands for an extended period of time, the mass I could move that made me feel like if I could do that then I could do anything. Fitness in the form of weightlifting where I was tracking progress with what I could do and not how I looked like really helped me redefine the boundaries of my body. I still struggle with body image every now and again since I’m still very far from a set of well defined abs and too many things jiggle without my permission most times and I think it will always be a work in progress for someone like me who’s intrinsically a perfectionist but the frame shift I have experienced since has empowered me in ways that I never thought would belong to me.

Now back to men. I think it was around this time last year that I started taking a critical look at why I was the way I was where men are concerned. It was at the height of my dad’s battle with cancer and I was ini school failing and riddled with guilt about it. The first real idea of what a relationship would look like for me also came up in my thoughts. A guy , the topic of many stories and a couple of playlists, who I had a lot of respect for but for all intents and purposes didn’t reciprocate that respect in the ways I felt I needed kept coming into my mind at that time. We had a relatively complicated history spanning almost ten years now and it was the kind of connection that I didn’t want to bring with me as powerful as it was. The back and forth took me back to a place where my insecurities were the root of my worth and validation and that was no longer my truth. Some part of me really wanted to believe that we were the kind of people who would always find our way to each other and I held a lot of love for him. But given the place I was an in at the time, I felt like I was on the road to losing some of the most important men in my life and I wanted to do as much that was in my power to curb that by questioning the love l held for all the men in my life. So I sent some letters and one of them was to him. Disclaimer, I was really embarrassed by the letter and even more embarrassed that I sent it to his school email so he had no choice but to read it. But in this letter, I thanked him. I thanked him for seeing me— all of me when I felt like nobody did but also told him that I needed to cut the ties that attached my sense of self to how he saw me and felt about me considering he was one of the first people to admit to seeing me in a romantic context. We were becoming adults, diverging paths and still something in me was holding out for him and I knew I needed to work on letting that go. It took me a week to write that letter and another week and some liquid courage to send it to him. I wrote a couple of other letters, mailed some, kept others. Overall in this exercise, I realized the lack of emotional vulnerability I have always struggled with, the coldness as a defense mechanism that I was comfortable using and the sense of security I felt from the validation of my father and my best male friends all fueled the way I shot myself in the foot when it came to letting new men into my life. Fast forward, my father has passed, this man is back in my life in the context of a healthy friendship and I am working on the final frontier of emotional vulnerability so that whatever the next romantic experience that comes my way, I won’t run from it. I made this with all the men I’ve loved in mind, my daddy, my best friend, the first person I said I love you to and meant it, a person who I’ve recently resigned myself to just get to know as opposed to making advances on and every situation I have yet to encounter where the male half of our species is involved. This is to all the men I’ve loved before, will always love, and hopefully will learn to love. Enjoy it.

#playlist melissak music purgepost exitential crisis

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collective-laugh · 5 years

Text

Too Important - Alejandra x Muriel

I love my sweet baby and have been working on this for a minute, so please have this lmao. Can be paired with this sister piece I did

Warnings: near death experience, repetition, blood, memories, crying, Muriel Route Spoilers, some of the scenes and dialogue belong to the Arcana game as I’m simply telling them from my apprentice’s perspective

“Well, my Auntie Alma is comin’ to get me, so I won’t be able to stay in your club for long.” Alejandra crosses her arms over her chest, worrying about sounding mean, because these two were the nicest people she’d met on the docks so far, and she didn’t want to make them upset.

“I guess you’re just too important for us.” The one called Muriel glares at the ground, and she wonders how long he’s been mad.

Asra elbows him in the ribs, but he’s small, so she knows it doesn’t really hurt, “You can stick with us until she comes!” He smiles, wide and bright and all teeth, leaning a little too close to Alejandra, but she didn’t really mind. “We have to do the inititation first!”

“Initiation.” Muriel quietly corrects, and Alejandra sits, cross-legged, scooting closer to the two of them, some of the tide’s spray getting on her butt.

“What’s the inititation?” She asks, much to Muriel’s annoyance.

Asra puts his index finger to his chin like he’s thinking about it really, really hard, and Muriel rolls his eyes, turning to face the water while they do...whatever it is they’re doing.

Asra grins, his smile pretty much covering all of his face - Alejandra thinks he looked kinda funny like that - and he exclaims, “You gotta find us a safe place to sleep tonight.”

Alejandra blows out her lips, putting her hands on her hips like Da used to, “I already have one of those.” She rolls her eyes, “If your stupid club is that easy to get into, why’s it still open?”

“It’s not stupid.” Asra narrows his eyes at her, “And we been sleeping on the docks. Where’s your safe place?”

Alejandra smiles, grabbing Asra by the hand and tugging him along, Muriel begrudgingly shuffling behind. She wondered what his deal was, but to herself, because Papa told her it was rude to “call people out”.

Her safe place is the corner of an alley, a bundle of blankets she’s managed to collect in her short time on the streets, and she puffs her chest out proudly, “It don’t get too wet here, and I’ve got plenty of blankets.”

~~~

Alejandra is a sound twelve years old, still taller than Asra and coming up to Muriel’s shoulders, sticking with the little club through thick and thin, stuck on the docks, waiting for a woman who won’t come.

She doesn’t remember what her fathers’ faces look like, and that terrifies her.

But she hides it, with pretty dancing and healing fingers and bright smiles, and she is good, and she is kind regardless.

She is reckless, of this she is unaware and blissfully so, keeping up with Asra and dragging Muriel along, and he warns her, foreboding as always.

They’re just urchins, they all know, but it would be a pity to find any of them dead. Even the count would think so - rumor had it, at least. Adults hate to see a little body pulled from the water, or an alleyway, or a gutter, and they act as if it couldn��t have been prevented.

But that day - Muriel remembers that particular day so vividly.

Everything happens in slow motion. She slips off the docks. Asra screams. Muriel runs. She hits her head, and there’s blood.

Asra cries. Muriel cries. A little girl runs up to them with an old blanket, and Muriel pulls Alejandra from the depths of the water and she coughs up water, and he’s relieved to see that she’s breathing. Asra mends the cut on her head and they thank the strange little girl whose name they never learn - winter takes her. Not all the urchins are as lucky as the trio.

Muriel brings her back to their damp little alley and holds her in the little girl’s blanket, snapping at curious urchins who wanted to get a look at the half-dead girl, and she insists that she’s alright, that she’ll be fine, and Muriel demands that she stay put, at least for the night.

Asra doesn’t stop crying until she can keep her eyes open and talk at the same time.

“You’re too important to lose.” Muriel swears to her, letting her take his pallet, the largest of the three, “Dunno what we’d do without you.”

She smiled into the pillow, he remembers, wincing and looking at him, “You won’t have t’ know.” She swears, even after a scare like that.

~~~

“I could work for the apothecary, maybe.” A fourteen year old Alejandra muses, head in Muriel’s lap and feet in Asra’s. “Or maybe the butcher is taking on apprentices.”

Asra scoffs, paging through a book he’d lifted - completely legally, he’d argue, but Muriel and Al both knew better - “Jandra, why the hell would you wanna work for that old fart?”

Alejandra leans up and asks, “Which? The shopkeep or the butcher?”

Muriel keeps his hands busy, twisting and tying a flower crown together, “Either.”

Turning and glaring at him, she retorts, “It’s not like we can just make do without any money.” Muriel shrugs, but says nothing.

Asra, on the other hand, waves around them, “We seem to be doing just fine with what we have.”

“Never mind.” She concedes, folding into herself. She knew she was right, knew that the three of them were destined for more than lifting lukewarm pies and blankets off clothing lines.

Muriel surprises her.

“You could heal people.” He suggests, tying off the flower crown, his voice cracking, “...set up shop and fix them.”

“That’s…” She pauses, knowing damn well she was one of the best healers on the docks, “that’s not a bad idea.” She could kiss Muriel, she thinks, but she doesn’t. Instead, he places the flower crown atop her head, and Alejandra, in that moment, looks like a princess.

Asra certainly thinks so, and Muriel grins, the slightest pull of his lips, “Besides, you’re too important for the apothecary or the butcher.”

~~~

“You’re too important to stay here.” Muriel stays put on the stretcher, careful not to upset her stitching, her handiwork, “The people need you, at the palace.”

Alejandra scoffs, putting her needle and thread away, focusing on the gash on his arm, “You need me, from the looks of it.” She shakes her head, purses her lips, and reproduces the sewing kit, “And the other gladiators. I won’t abandon you lot now.” ‘Especially with the plague’ dies on her tongue, they both know, and it hurts. He knows he’ll probably die here. He knows that she’ll die too if she stays.

“You should go.” He insists, and it almost hurts, how bad he wants her to leave.

“You should sit still.” She purses her lips, willing the tears away, “You’ll undo all my hard work.”

Muriel does as she says, trying to find the words, to convince her to go. Nothing comes to mind, and, with Asra gone, he can see how much this job, this lifetime, hurts her, how cruel the world is to her.

“You deserve better than this place.”

Her thumb idly traces the inside of his arm, and he notices just how dark the circles under her eyes are.

“So do you.”

~~~ Sister piece happens here lol ~~~

“...do you know how to fish?” Muriel asks, knowing damn well that she used to - they had to learn, together, she and him and Asra so they wouldn’t starve when money was scarce, and he felt his world kind of...shatter when he realizes that all her memories, all their memories were just...gone. She didn’t remember the way Asra looked at her, or the way she danced on the docks in the middle of the night, or how…

“Not even a little.” It’s a lie, or...not a lie, but an untruth that she didn’t realize was wrong, and he doesn’t know how to tell her without hurting her.

He doesn’t want to give her another headache. So, he thinks of the best phrasing he can to avoid it all, “I’m not surprised.”

Really, all it does is remind him of when they were kids. They were always at one another’s throats, poking and prodding until the other stormed off, until one day it became...softer. More playful, and happy and something he looked forward to.

She puts both hands on her hips and looks up at him, not scared of him in the slightest. The more she stayed by his side, with him, the more he was convinced that she was really Alejandra, through and through, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughs, a short little bark that has her grinning, and he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest, “You live in the city. People in the city are soft.”

Alejandra’s hair is much longer, he thinks, rather dumbly. It brushes past her shoulders, instead of being cropped around her ears.

So the guards couldn’t pull it, he thinks. He wonders if she always wanted to keep it long.

“Soft and proud of it.” She smiles, stepping closer to him, and he swallows.

“Pfft.” He grins, not wide enough to really be considered such, “City folk.”

She matches his smile, “I know. We’re the worst, aren’t we? Can’t even catch our own food.” If only she knew, he thinks, and the thought makes him sad, “How do we survive?”

He’s struck with the thought of her, the plague chipping away at her until she was a shell with two glistening red eyes, the fire consuming her, the way he knew she must have thought he betrayed her.

He wished he had been able to say goodbye then. He barely manages to keep up the banter with a meek, “No idea.” And then, just like when he was a child, just as he is now, he stumbles over his words around her, “I could...teach you. If you wanted to learn.” Alejandra loved to learn, to help, that much was true.

And, she loved a challenge.

“And if you think you can.”

That riles her up, furrowing her brow and making her smile, “I’d love learn.” She faces him - more like face to chest.

He holds her steady, instructing her one keeping her footing steady in the water. He knew that, before, she was scared of the water, of drowning, after she…

After he nearly lost her, that day.

“Grab it!”

She catches a fish, barely managing to hold onto it, and she plummets, face first into the water. He catches her almost immediately, never fast enough, and she’s against his chest in an instant, coughing and sputtering and shaking like a wet dog.

“I-I said keep your footing steady!” He exclaims, so afraid of her being hurt, or afraid, or -

Alejandra shakes her head, the heel of her hand coming to wipe the water from her eyes as she does her best to catch her breath, and she jokes, “Good thing you were there to catch me.”

That...that…

He blushes, unsure of what name to call her. Instead, he mutters, setting her back down and ensuring she could stand, “Just...be careful. You’re too important to drown in a forest.”

Muriel is struck with a sense of deja vu.

~~~

“I refuse.” Muriel shakes his head, backing away from the campfire, from Morga, from Alejandra, “I won’t hurt Alejandra!” He shakes his head wildly, some of the hair from his braids falling loose, and fear completely overtakes him.

Alejandra takes a few steps closer, holding her hands out, as if to calm him, and as soon as she nearly touches him, he’s running, terrified of hurting her, as if even the slightest bit of contact will ruin her.

She follows him, much to his dismay, and happens upon him crying, and he shakes his head, back away from her all over again, “I don’t want to hurt you!”

She swallows, looking at him like he was some pitiful, cornered rat, “I don’t want to hurt you either.”

He was a cornered rat, and he didn’t know how to tell her about everything he’d done, about the pain and the suffering and everything he’d done, “It’s not about me! It’s never - I don’t matter!” It’s the loudest she’s ever heard him, and she flinches.

It’s not, he realizes. Not the loudest she’s ever heard him. They’ve argued and screamed and yelled countless times before. And she doesn’t remember him.

“I trust you, Muriel.”

It’s enough to knock the wind right out of him, sobbing and shaking his head, “I don’t trust myself.” He gets to his feet, making to run away again, and she’s afraid, eyes wide and he’s going to hurt her, whether he touch her or run or stay, there’s no way he won’t damage her worse than he already has, and he’s so sorry, so greedy, so damn, damn sorry -

And she lurches forward, grabbing his wrist and throwing her other arm around his neck, drawing him down for a kiss.

It’s just like he remembers, soft and pliant and far too much, far more than he deserves. It clanks and knocks and is messy, but she was his first kiss, and now, his second, and he’s so, so sorry that he nearly forgot what it felt like to hold her. She holds herself awkwardly against him, and he’s bent at one knee, and she clings for dear life, as if she couldn’t be close enough. Muriel’s hands ghost over her shoulders, as if he could touch her, debating if they should.

She’s panting by the end of it, though it was chaste and short, and it’s enough to stun Muriel into silence.

“Wh...what are you doing?”

Alejandra pauses, and for the first time in a long, long time, she’s completely quiet, blinking, before she tells him, “I was...kissing you.”

“Oh.” It’s an obvious answer, one he already knew, but he can’t help but think about it, “...why?”

She crosses her arms over her chest but doesn’t step away from him, “I...I was scared you were going to leave!” She exclaims, biting the inside of her cheek.

“So you kissed me.”

Alejandra huffs indignantly, averting her gaze, “Yes!”

“...okay.” He swallows, his lips still tingling from...her...He nods a little to himself, and he can feel his cheeks burning like the blaze of a thousand suns, “...it was…” He can’t find the right words, and now is the worst time in the world for him to be tongue-tied, he knows.

And, as always, Alejandra finds the words for him, “Should I try again?”

He flushes all over again, “It wouldn’t be…” Muriel swallows, eyes wide, “Itwouldn’tbetheworstthingintheworldifyoudid.”

She furrows her brow, placing a hand on his forearm, “What was that?” She takes a miniscule step closer.

“I said...it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

She smiles, real and wide, and he knows he’s done for. “Oh. Ok.”

She grabs his cloak, slower this time, giving him an out, and he can’t thank her enough for that.

He meets her halfway once he decides that she’s much more interesting than the horizon, a simple brush of their lips, and his nose touches her cheek, very tentatively kissing back. His hands, one on her shoulder, the other on her waist, hold her close as her mouth works against him, drawing him closer, ever closer, and he’d never tire of this, of the feeling of her, and he never wants to breathe again, not if it would feel like this.

“You…” Muriel mutters, his lips still pressed against hers, “you are the most important thing.”

And he meant it, after all these years.

~~~

“I’m always going to be here when you need me.” Alejandra promises, holding him as he cries. He’s so pathetic, so tired, so…

But she makes it better, convinces him that he might be more important than...all of this, and it’s nice, to have someone be so nice, to believe in him, to make him do all these things that he hid from and he just…

The doubt consumes him, always, “...what if I never stop? What if I always need you around?”

She stays in his lap, and he realizes just how close she is, especially when she cups his cheeks and presses a sweet, simple kiss to his mouth that has fireworks erupting in his chest.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Her thumb traces his stubble and she smiles.

He shuts his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, aching to kiss her again, “Isn’t it? I was...I was fine, being alone, before.”

Alejandra isn’t having it - she never does, really - and she pulls away, arching a brow and challenging him, “Were you fine? Really?”

“No.” He shakes his head, sighing, relishing in the feeling of her being so damn close, “But I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know what I was missing.” He didn’t know he could have it, “But now I keep...feeling things. And talking to people. And going places.” He glares at her, mostly mocking, “It’s your fault.”

She rests a hand on his collar-free neck, her fingers cold as ice, and she laughs, throwing her head back and exposing the column of her throat. He’s convinced he’d like to kiss it.

Instead, he reaches for her hands, drawing them to his mouth, and he cups and blows on them, drawing her attention to them, and she…

She blushes, and red looks good on her.

“Well.” She smiles, voice wavering but still, somehow, confident, “Are you feeling better, novio?”

He kisses one of her fingertips, and slowly, hesitantly, they both get to their feet. “...it’s a nice spot. Khamgalai was right, the sun does hit it just right.”

He scoops up some flowers, for the parents he doesn’t remember, and he’s struck by the familiarity of it, of how he and Alejandra don’t remember their parents, or the love they gave them.

“It followed me everywhere I went. Don’t talk too loud. Don’t eat too much. Don’t bother anyone.” He shakes his head, “Don’t be a burden.” He sighs, and looks up at her, “You’re too important, you know? For...all of this.”

He can tell she still doesn’t believe him.

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